Page 85 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

As the elevator opens, I take one step off and pause, his voice reaching my ears.

Christian Myers sits on a chair in the center of the golden lobby, surrounded by a group of a few dozen people.

I step lightly, my heart pounding. I can hardly see him through the crowd, but I feel a tug in my stomach pulling me closer to him. Spotting Katrina standing at the edge of the circle, I move to stand beside her. She looks at me and widens her eyes, a look so full of sass I think Addison is finally rubbing off on her.

I shrug a shoulder and we say nothing for the rest of the song.

At the end, Christian smiles at his adoring crowd, soaking up the applause. He sees us and his smile deepens as he offers me a wink.

I wave, unsure what else to do.

“Thank you for listening,” he says as he stands up. “But I’m afraid I have to take a break.” The crowd groans. He rests a hand on his heart. “I know, I know. But I love every one of you beautiful people.”

They reluctantly disperse, leaving with whispers and cherished videos on their phones, as Christian walks in our direction.

“Good morning, ladies,” he greets as he adjusts his guitar to rest along his back.

“Hi, Christian,” Katrina says.

“Hey,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just putting on a little show for the hotel guests while I wait for you to come down.”

“Us?” Katrina asks.

“Well, Jordan, specifically.”

I tilt back. “Me?”

Christian pauses. “Chrissy didn’t tell you?”

I withdraw my phone from my pocket to check for a missed message. “Chrissy’s been a little tied up lately,” I quip.

“Oh, well, long story short: I have a gig in DC next week. And I need a ride.”

“A ride?”

He leans in. “Chrissy said it was okay with her if I tagged along, butyou’rethe boss of this tour. I have to clear it with you first.”

I arch a brow, confused. “You want us to give you a ride to Washington?”

“Uh-huh,” he says, nodding.

“That’s a four-hour train ride from here,” Katrina points out.

“Right. I know.” Christian shrugs. “But I don’t have to be there until next week, so I have some time to kill. And I checked your schedule and saw that you’re heading to Philly and Boston after this and I fucking love Boston.”

I nod. “Boston’s great.”

“You’ll be riding into DC a day before I have to be there, so I thought, what better way to kill time than to follow the best damn rock band in the world on tour?” He grins as he spins his guitar back around and holds it. “Maybe I’ll even join you for a song or two on stage. Give the people a real good show, just like old times. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Katrina peeks at me. “It sounds very fun.”

“It does,” I say. “But our bus is... kinda cramped already.”

“I won’t take up much space, I promise,” Christian says. “And I’ll get my own accommodations. No worries about housing me. Or feeding me or clothing me. Well...” He smirks. “Unless you’re into that.”

Katrina nudges my ribs.

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