Page 90 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

“What’s the password?” Chrissy asks, squinting.

I laugh. “I’m not the one with the evil twin!”

“Password.”

“Whiskey sour!”

Chrissy nods, satisfied, but her gaze still lingers suspiciously. “Okay. It’s you.” She smiles. “Have fun, huh?”

“Yeah,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.“Have fun.”

She curls her arm around me, too, and rests her head on mine. Not wanting to be left out, August steps behind us andreaches around, taking the two of us in a bear hug that makes us laugh.

“I love this job,” he says.

We laugh and hug him back. Meanwhile, Knox and Christian strum their guitars together, starting a song that the band quick-learned earlier today.

I just wanna rock your world.

It’s not perfect, but it’s damn near close enough.

I smile even wider as Christian Myers peeks over his shoulder, spotting the three of us standing in the wings.

He winks at me. Again.

Blood tickles my cheeks. I give him an awkward wave, still unsure how to react. Is he winking at me specifically? Or is that just what Christian Myers does to all the girls?

Either way, the three of us enjoy the show, happy to leave our problems until tomorrow.

29

JORDAN

We don’t make it back to the hotel until long after midnight.

Since Christian took the stage tonight, I’ve felt my phone vibrating constantly in my pocket. Journalists. Bloggers. Talk show hosts. If they talk about music all day, then they want to talk to me about… whatever the hell is happening with Criminal Records and Christian Myers.

The truth is far less interesting than whatever they’re dreaming up, and silence is sometimes the greatest hype-generator of all time, so I don’t answer. I let the social media engine do its thing, occasionally looking over Addison’s shoulder as she shows off the latest viral fan posts and videos of the concert.

We trend so highly, as Knox points out, that the world nearly forgets that The Electrics had a show in New York City tonight as well.

“Yeah,” he mutters smugly on the bus, his feet propped up, with one arm flung over Harmony’s shoulders. “Get fucked, Shock.”

We laugh. Christian does, too.

Bronson, however...

He sits quietly. Not unusual, of course. That’s his natural state, after all, but there’s something else in his eyes; something other than his usual pensive stare.

When I know he’s watching, I discreetly shift my planner from one hand to the other and...

“Whoops!” I say as my pen slips from my fingers.

Have fun,I said.

Enjoy it,I said.

And I will.

---