Chapter 27
27
brONSON
T he vote is unanimous.
Christian Myers has officially joined the Break the Rules Tour.
I voted yes, reluctantly. I wanted to say no, but then I’d be on the hook for explaining why.
Because the bus is too crowded already. True.
Because I don’t want him around. Why not?
Because I don’t like the way he looks at Jordan. Why do you care?
Yeah, Bronson.
Why do you care?
So I raised my hand and voted yes.
Instant regret.
Music echoes through the empty Plaza ballroom. It’s a quick band practice, an extra chance to review our set list before tonight’s show. Knox and Katrina harmonize, their voices blending with Addison’s guitar and Jonah’s bass, while I pound out the beat behind them. It’s Marla’s Song, a track I can literally play in my sleep by now.
Looking forward, I stare at Jordan, but she hasn’t looked at me once this entire practice.
She’s too busy looking at Christian.
Because of course, he joined us. Because of course, Chrissy wants to catch up. Because of course, August is gushing all over him.
And of course, Christian seizes every opportunity to touch Jordan’s hand or graze her knee.
Blood boils in my veins. My heart pounds angrily, briefly throwing off my internal rhythm. I adjust quickly, but not fast enough for the others not to take notice. Addison glances back at me over her shoulder. I stay casual. I focus on my drums, my fingers locked around my sticks with a white-knuckle grip.
Jordan’s laughter sends me off balance again. I look up, spotting her between Knox and Jonah in front of me, her head thrown back.
Christian laughs with her.
He leans in, whispering some other punch line and making her laugh even harder.
I bring my stick down on the drum, and it snaps in my grip.
The pieces dig into my palm before tumbling out of my fingers onto the floor. I curse under my breath, the sudden shift in momentum lurching through my body as well, destroying whatever rhythm I had left.
The others look back at me and the music stops.
“Hey, Bron,” Jonah says. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, flexing my hand. “Just broke a stick.”
Jordan stands up, her eyes full of concern. “Is your hand okay?”
I nod at her, then look away, Christian’s form lingering behind her shoulder.
“Can we take five?” Addison says.
“Yeah,” Jordan says, her eyes still on me. “Take a five, you guys. Then, we’ll come back and do Strawberry Daiquiris.”
“Ooo!” Christian hums, still too damn close to her. “What’s that? New song?”
As I beeline past them toward the ballroom doors, I realize my arms and legs have gone stiff from clenching too hard. I do my best to shake it off as I enter the lobby.
“Hey, Bronson,” Addison says a step behind me. “You good?”
I nod.
“You don’t look it,” she says.
Knowing she won’t believe it unless I say it aloud, I say, “Tired.”
She snorts. “Same here.” She rubs the space between her eyes. “Me thinks we might be too old for the New York all-nighters.”
I shrug to show I agree.
“So, there’s nothing else going on?” she asks. “Nothing at all you want to talk about? Get off your chest?”
“I’m fine, Addison,” I say as I keep walking.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom.”
I spend my break splashing cold water on my face and... wishing I was someone else.
Wishing I was more talented. Or more charismatic.
I spend a significant portion of my life on a stage, but I’m no performer. I bang on drums. I’m not frontman material and I never will be.
I can see why she likes him.
I can see why she doesn’t like me the same way.
Why would she?
The door opens behind me. Through the mirror, I watch as Addison marches in and stops next to me by the sink.
“Addison,” I say to her in the mirror. “This is the men’s room.”
“Oh, who cares?” she says. “I still wanna talk to you.”
I exhale. “About what?”
She steps closer to stand beside me. “Will you talk to Jordan?”
“About what?”
“Don’t play dumb. You know why.”
I give her a look, playing dumb.
“Tell her how you feel, Bronson,” she says.
“There’s nothing to tell her,” I say. “I told you before. That was a long time ago.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Not my problem.”
“If you don’t, he will,” she says, her eyes sharp with knowledge.
I scoff. “Jordan’s too smart to fall for Christian’s bullshit.”
“Yeah,” Addison says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because rock gods totally aren’t known for seducing the smart girls. Plus, she has a pretty epic crush on him.”
“Had,” I correct.
“Just like you had a crush on her before and now you don’t?”
I don’t reply.
Addison places her hand on my shoulder. “Talk to her,” she says. “Please? Before you snap another stick, at least.”
I shake my head. “It won’t make a difference.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do,” I say, turning to lean back against the counter. “We’re not compatible.”
“Did she say that?”
“Yes.”
She blinks. “Really?”
“We’re just friends,” I say. “That’s all we’ll ever be.”
“Harvey and I were just friends, too,” she says. “A lot can change in just one conversation, Bronson.”
“Not this,” I whisper.
Addison sighs. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re wrong.”
The door to the restroom opens behind us. Knox strides inside, halting when he sees me and Addison standing at the mirrors.
“What, uh...” He eyes us curiously. “What’s going on?”
“We’re having a dick measuring contest,” Addison jokes. “Wanna whip it out?”
Knox flashes a cocky smirk. “Nah,” he says, continuing toward a stall. “I don’t want to create a tripping hazard.”
Addison chuckles as he walks away, then looks at me as soon as he latches his stall door behind him. “Talk to her,” she whispers.
I don’t respond, letting her leave silently instead.