Chapter 22
22
brONSON
A nd the tour goes on.
After a sold out show and a night of Canadian star bussing, we check out of the hotel and pile onto the bus to make our way to the next city. The next hotel. The next sold out show.
There’s a noticeable shift in the air today, though.
Today, we’re heading to New York City.
It’s one of our favorite cities for many reasons. One being... it’s New York fucking City. Great food. Awesome bars. Incredible people on every street corner. Some of the best fans in the world are here, and they’ve all got tickets to our upcoming show.
I tap my drumsticks against my legs, keeping time as Knox and Jonah strum their guitars. Jonah got hit with a wave of inspiration overnight and he hopped on the bus with the start of a brand new song this morning.
As the songwriters among us hammer that out, I let the memories of last night wash over me.
Jordan. My sweet Jordan.
So fucking sweet.
She fell asleep in my arms, and I fell in hers, too. It’s not something I’m known for, truthfully. Not that I’m a pump and dump kind of guy. I’ll provide the appropriate aftercare when necessary. But last night was different. It felt different.
But it wasn’t different at all, was it?
It’s just sex.
As the Manhattan skyline comes into view, the others stash away their guitars and beeline for the windows. The air prickles with excitement, the city growing bigger and bigger as we ride closer and closer. Harvey practically bounces in his seat, having never been there before at all.
“No?” Jordan asks him from her table. “We’ll have to take you out tonight, then, I think.”
The entire bus goes silent.
I smile.
“What?” Knox asks.
“Oh,” Jordan says, nice and chill, as she looks up from her planner, her pretty eyes peeking over the rims of her glasses. “Did I not say you all have the night off?”
“No,” Jonah says, lurching forward on his seat. “You did not.”
Jordan grins as she touches her pen to her clipboard and jots down a note.
In the brief celebration that immediately follows, Addison shuffles into the back of the bus and plops down next to me.
“Dude,” she mutters, her volume as low as possible.
I simply touch a finger to my lips, staying quiet. Addison does the same, sitting back and shaking her head; a dirty secret on her lips.
The concrete jungle inches closer. After what feels like miles of slow traffic, Knox looks out the window at the skyscrapers… and groans.
Curious, we all follow his lead.
Outside, high above the street, a banner hangs from the Sugar Sound building.
The Electrics.
The Shock and Awe Tour.
SOLD OUT.
Logan Shock, his smirk gigantic, looks down upon us with his Shock Girls flanking him on either side. Tesla with her guitar. Goldie with her drumsticks.
We’re in their territory now.
The rest of the drive toward the Botsford Plaza is noticeably quieter, but we still hop off the bus with excitement, eager to rest up for a night on the town. The three managers push ahead to get us checked in while we take a moment to stretch our legs and wait for our keys.
“Ms. Peck?” the man at the front desk asks.
“Yes?” I hear Jordan say across the busy lobby.
He hands her a room key. “It appears you’ve been upgraded,” he says.
“Upgraded?”
“To the executive suite.”
“The what?” She chuckles. “No. I don’t need an upgrade.”
“Compliments of Mr. Paul Monroe, miss.”
Jordan shakes her head. “Then, I really don’t need?—”
“Don’t be silly, Jordan!” Knox lurches toward her and snatches the room key. “Of course she’ll take the upgrade. Thank you so very much.”
The man smiles and continues gathering the rest of our keys.
Jordan gives Knox a sharp look. “Knox,” she says. “I can’t accept this.”
“Yes, you can,” he replies, playfully tapping the keycard against his palm.
“He’s obviously trying to woo me to take his offer. You realize that, right?”
“Oh, no shit.” He snorts. “Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it.”
“We’re only in the city for two nights.”
“So?”
Jordan exhales a heavy sigh as she scans the group; everyone’s expressions in various stages of excitement. Hell, even I’m curious what the executive suite at the New York City Botsford Plaza looks like.
“Okay, fine,” she says, bowing to the pressure. “We’ll take it.”
Knox grins. “Excellent.”
We all head toward the elevators, but not a single one of us taps the button for our actual floor. Instead, we follow Knox’s lead. He swipes the key through the reader on the wall, unlocking the path to the 40th floor.
Jordan releases one last heavy sigh, and we ride all the way up to the executive suite.
We all step off the elevator, whistling and humming at the impressive sight. Except Jonah, of course. He’s seen views like this on every single family vacation he’s ever taken in his life. But the rest of us swoon with awe at the sleek furnishings and floor-to-ceiling windows.
The best damn view of NYC I’ve ever seen in my life.
While the others escape into the living area and dining room, Jordan pauses at the kitchenette counter. There’s a bouquet of bright red roses in a vase waiting there, along with a basket of goodies, some from the usual Botsford Plaza welcoming committee, others from… someone else.
She picks up an envelope addressed to her and opens it. As she reads it quietly to herself, her brow grows heavier. I walk over to stand beside her, curious.
“From Mr. Paul Monroe,” she says, clearing her throat before reading aloud. “Enjoy the view, sweetheart. Soon it’ll be yours every day.” She scoffs as she tosses it aside. “Asshole.”
“You deserve to be spoiled for a while, I think,” I say.
She looks at me, a smile briefly touching her lips. “Thanks, Bronson,” she says.
“All right!” Behind her, Knox stands at the windows, his arms stretched out wide. “Let’s fucking party!”
Everyone hollers in agreement, except Jordan.
But I give her a smile, and she softens.
“All right.” Jordan grabs a bottle of something very expensive from the basket and holds it up. “Let’s fucking party,” she repeats.