Page 80 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

Harmony nods. “We heard her do karaoke in LA. She’s ridiculous.”

“She and the gold one put on a show at Dade Connery’s place.” He holds up a hand. “And while we’re on the subject. Dade freakin’ Connery offers you a track on his album — and you saucy bitchesturned him down?!What the actual fuck?”

We laugh.

Addison answers when the rest of us bite our cheeks. “It wasn’t the right fit for us,” she says.

Christian scoffs, amused. “The balls on you guys... are legendary.” He takes a sip from his club soda. “Anyway, Shock’s got himself an ace up his sleeve, snagging that girl, that’s for sure. But their sound?” He shakes his head again. “It’s been done.”

“Damn right,” Knox says. “I keep saying the same thing.”

“But also, you know...” Christian shrugs his shoulders, his eyes full of wisdom. “People like familiar things. I can see why they’re popular.”

Knox sneers at that, but it’s true.

“Still...” Christian’s grin returns, highlighting the deep dimples on his jawline that I... admittedly forgot he had. “I’m rooting for you in your Battle of the Bands.”

“Are you gonna be there?” Addison asks.

“Am I invited?”

“Hell yeah!” Jonah raises his glass, prompting the rest of us to do the same. “Come on out. Be our cheerleader.”

“All right. Under one condition.” Christian smirks. “You get me a penthouse suite in that big fancy house of yours for the night.”

“Deal,” Jonah says.

We seal the deal by tapping our glasses together around the circle before chugging our drinks.

Except Bronson.

Christian notices. He turns his smile toward Bronson and bows his head. “Mr. Isaacs,” he says, his voice light and jovial. “You’re uncharacteristically quiet this evening.”

We chuckle at the joke, while Bronson offers a shrug.

“Happy to hear you’re doing well,” Christian says to him. “All of you,” he adds, pointing around our circle. “Honestly, I couldn’t be happier. You’ve come a long way.”

“Still got a ways to go, though,” I say, making the others roll their eyes.

That’s Jordan,they’re thinking.

Work. Work. Work.

But Christian admires me, his bright sea green eyes taking their time as he looks me over. “There always is.” He smiles, and it reaches those eyes. “You haven’t changed a bit, Jordan.”

I will myself not to blush. This might be the first time he’s ever called me by my actual name. “Oh, I…”

My words fade, so I simply shrug.

Christian sits back in his seat, still smiling.

25

BRONSON

We don’t return to the hotel until just before dawn.

Christian Myers included.

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