Chapter 15
15
brONSON
M ornings suck.
But this one is kinda nice.
I slept in the bunk opposite of Jordan on the bus. When the alarm on her phone went off at five sharp, I quickly snatched it up out of her jeans and turned it off before it woke her, too.
Poor thing is exhausted.
It’s all our fault.
Well, I’m willing to stick Paul Monroe with some of the blame. Hearing about his offer — no, his attempt to poach Jordan right from under us — pissed me off more than I expected. The way he tried to sweet talk her and turn her against us… yeah, that crossed the motherfucking line.
Suddenly, she wasn’t just my oldest friend. Or my manager. She was something to be treasured and protected.
Do what you will to me.
But don’t fuck with Jordan, you smug piece of shit.
I send a few texts from her phone, then set a new alarm for eight o’clock and lay back down in the opposite bunk.
When the alarm goes off again, I roll out of the bunk. I quietly confirm that Jordan is still snoozing before flicking on the coffeemaker. The space soon fills with the welcoming scent of hot coffee and Jordan stirs with it.
I kneel by the bunk and wait. “Jordan?” I whisper.
She hums tiredly.
I smile. “Jordan.”
“Hm?”
“Wake up.”
She squirms beneath the blanket. Her eyes flutter open and, for the briefest of seconds, she sees me looking at her and she smiles.
Then she lurches up and looks around. “Oh, shit.”
“Jordan—”
“What time is it?”
“Eight-fifteen,” I say.
“Eight?! Oh, fuck?—”
“Jordan.” I touch her shoulder as she tries to roll out of the bunk. “It’s fine.”
“No, I have to make sure everyone is up! We have a band meeting and then I have to call the venue and?—”
“Everyone is at breakfast. They’ll be ready for the band meeting at nine.”
Her eyelids flutter again, still waking up. “They are?”
“Chrissy took over wake-up calls so you could sleep in.”
“She did?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because you texted her and asked her to.”
“I did?”
“I did.” I offer her phone to her. “By the way, you really shouldn’t use your birthday as your pin code.”
Jordan props up on her elbows, her eyes wide and awake now. “You did?” she asks.
I nod.
“But… why, though?” she asks.
“Because you needed to sleep,” I say. “There’s still time for you to shower and get some food. We’ll meet you in the ballroom upstairs at nine.”
Jordan peeks beneath her blanket, curiously eying her naked body. “You put me in the bunk after…” she mutters, her memories returning.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Thank you, Bronson.”
I smile. “Take your time. I’ll make sure everyone is where they need to be.”
I move to leave, but Jordan reaches out and touches my arm. “Bronson.”
I pause.
Her eyes flit around. “We should clean the bus before people come down,” she says, looking guilty. And cute.
Cute and guilty.
I chuckle. “Already taken care of.”
“It is?”
“I used disinfecting wipes and everything.”
Jordan exhales and sits back, happy for one thing to already be crossed off her list. “Thank you,” she says again.
“You’re welcome, Jordan.”
I leave her to get dressed, securing the doors closed behind me.
I reach the golden lobby with a smile.
It’s gonna be a good day.
“It’s shot time!”
I toss my drink back; the bourbon burn a bit more tingly tonight.
“All right!” Jordan says to our circle. Her voice clenches as she shakes it off. “Harvey, you’re up in three minutes!”
We all take turns patting him on the back and wishing luck to our opening act. Then he takes off toward the stage with Addison, their hands lovingly entwined as she whispers in his ear.
Good for them.
As the others continue getting ready, I grab my drumsticks off the table in the dressing room and step out into the backstage area. Stagehands and roadies pass me quickly, rushing to complete their last-minute tasks before it’s lights up on Harvey Moon.
Jordan stands near the wings. She’s talking to August and Chrissy, all with their clipboards, all making sure this show goes off without a hitch.
I plant my back to the wall and watch. I watch her speak with authority; her smile loose and friendly. She carries a noticeable lack of tension in her shoulders tonight. There’s a swiftness to her stride that wasn’t there yesterday.
She’s happy. Laid back. Perhaps not as carefree as I’d like, but we’ll get there.
I absently roll a drumstick through my fingers out of habit, memories of her writhing on my lap last night making my pants feel tighter.
Jordan glances up suddenly, her eyes drawn to my location. She doesn’t smile, doesn’t show that she saw me at all. If you don’t count the sudden twinkle in her eyes, that is.
As the lights dim and the sold-out Chicago crowd goes wild, the opening notes of Harvey’s new song Blue Eyes fills the arena.
A minute later, Addison steps back from the wings. She scans around backstage until she spots me in the dark. Then she beelines in my direction with quick, purposeful steps, her black boots thumping along the floor.
“Hey, Bronson,” she says.
I nod a silent greeting.
She spins around and stands beside me, planting her back against the wall. “So... how you doing?” she asks, her voice far too perky.
I nod again.
“Good. That’s good,” she repeats, her eyes on the floor.
We stand still for a minute, listening to the song.
“There’s nothing going on, then?” she asks. “With you? Nothing new or... exciting in your life?”
I shake my head.
“Yeah. Yeah, me neither. Except for Harvey, I mean. He’s great. It’s been really great with him so far. I’m happy. We’re very... happy.”
I give her another nod, genuinely happy for her.
“But there’s nothing new with you?” she asks again as she picks a bit of non-existent lint off her white tank top. “Because if there is, you can tell me. You can talk to me about anything. I hope you know that.”
I just stare.
“There’s nothing you want to talk to me about, Bronson?” she asks.
“What’s up, Addison?” I say, breaking my silence.
“Nothing.” She clears her throat. “Okay, there is something.”
“No shit.”
“Something that I really need to talk to you about. Maybe not need to, but I want to because it’s been bugging me. Harvey told me not to say anything, that it wasn’t any of my business, but I know if I don’t it’s going to keep bugging me, so I’m just gonna say it and we’ll go from there.”
I wait, my stomach clenching slightly.
“I saw you last night with Jordan,” she blurts. “We saw you. Harvey and me, we saw you... kissing each other.”
Yeah.
That tracks.
“Where?” I ask.
“Where?” she repeats.
“Where did you see us kissing?”
“There were multiple locations?”
“No.”
“Then—” She drops her hands in frustration. “You know where. The bus, Bronson!”
“Did you see us doing anything else?” I ask.
“No. Why?” She tilts back. “What else did you guys do?”
I don’t answer.
“You didn’t...” she sneers, “on the bus, did you?”
I don’t answer.
“Dude...” she says. “We eat there!”
“What were you two doing at the bus at that hour?” I ask accusingly.
She straightens up. “Not... that.”
I give her a glare.
“Okay, fine! We were gonna fool around on the bus, but you and Jordan beat us to it!”
“Keep your voice down, please.”
She drops to a whisper, but her eyes shine eagerly for gossip. “How long has this been going on?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I think I’ll worry about it, Bronson,” she says. “You and Jordan are... what? Dating?”
“No.”
“Then, you’re just…?” She gestures randomly with her hands, hoping I’ll pick up the sentence.
“Harvey’s right, Addy,” I say, tapping my drumstick against my leg. “It’s none of your business.”
“Hey, I’m not judging anybody here. Jordan finally getting some can only be a net positive for all of us. I’m just… a smidgen concerned.”
“Why? It’s just a casual thing.”
“A casual thing?”
“Yeah. Fuck buddies.”
“Fuck buddies?” She chuckles. “Just a little Bronson and chill?”
“Exactly. Now go away. I’m doing my ritual.”
Addison snorts. “Your ritual?”
“Yeah, my pre-show ritual.”
“Your pre-show ritual is brooding in the shadows, like some weirdo?”
“It’s a mental ritual.”
“So, what are you mentally doing?”
“Keeping my mouth shut.” I sharpen my glare. “Which is exactly what you should do right now.”
“Okay. Okay.” Addison moves to stand in front of me. “Just let me ask you one more thing and then I’ll drop it forever. Well, not forever. Until it inevitably blows up in your face.”
I wait.
She exhales hard; her face softening. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asks.
I shrug. “Okay with what?”
She locks her knowing eyes with mine. “Because it’s Jordan, Bronson,” she says. “I know how you feel about her.”
Oh. Right.
It’s hard to hide a schoolboy crush from somebody who lived in your house for a few years… especially once my gossipy sisters got involved.
“Felt,” I correct her. “I haven’t thought about Jordan like that in years.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
She nods, but her eyes shine with doubt. “Well, I know talking usually isn’t your thing, but if you need to talk to somebody, I’m here. You know that, right?”
“I know. Thank you,” I add, giving her a sincere nod.
Addison walks away, heading back to the wings to watch the rest of Harvey’s set.
I stay in my shadow with my sticks, watching Jordan as she smiles.
I had a good day.
Gonna have a good night, too.