Page 108 of From Drummer to Gamer

I softly closed her door and crossed over to the driver’s seat in quick strides. The entire time, I could feel her eyes following me, and I didn’t even have to see to know that they were pooled with vulnerable trust and admiration.

Forgoing the usual classics I listened to during a drive, the car was instead swallowed in one of our albums. Sierra happily bobbed her head, stating that it was her pre-game playlist, so who was I to question?

Today was her quarterfinals, and I wasn’t going to let her take a taxi all the way across the city by herself. Her eyes gleamed with so much hope when she asked me earlier this week if I had any plans on Saturday. In my head, I’d already planned on inviting myself to her game because watching her play could be added to my newfound list of addictions when it came to her.

And when I said yes, those hopeful eyes glittered so bright that it ached my heart.

“Do you want to listen to one of our unreleased songs?” I asked, just as her playlist ended.

Her rounded eyes flew to me. “I can do that?”

“Of course you can,” I replied, handing her my phone. “The code is two-four-two-four, you can airplay the unreleased folder on the voice memos.”

Her pretty pink lips parted as she grasped the phone. “Aren’t you worried about giving me your password? You know I can find out all of your secrets.”

I shrugged. “Don’t care.”

She shook her head in disbelief before fiddling with my phone. “But don’t worry, I’m a good girlfriend, and I respect boundaries. Plus, I trust you more than I trust myself. You’re sometimes too honest and blunt that I worry if you can even tell a lie.”

I slanted her with a gaze while I maneuvered the steering wheel. “I don’t think you should be worried about that.”

“Everyone has to lie sometimes, but I actually like that you don’t.” She shifted her body to the side, her eyes grazing over me. “And you shouldn’t. It wouldn’t suit you if you lie,” she said, her brows knotted in a pensive frown.

“Thanks for the insight.”

A soft laugh spilled from her lips before the car was once again swallowed by one of our recent demos, to which Sierra oohed and aahed over, saying they would be our biggest hits. She even played some of the beat arrangements I composed and even took the liberty of sending them to her phone, saying they were her new favorites now.

It took another thirty minutes before we reached the venue, and thanks to Sierra’s access pass, we got ourselves a good lot.

“So umm, quarters are usually slow days. We just have one match, but it takes a while for them to place us. I’ll text you when our match starts so you don’t have to be bored out of your mind. Until then, you’re free,” she said with a smile, clutching her tiny backpack to her chest.

“Sierra, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m leaving and coming back just to see you play. I want to be here with you.”

Her eyes lit up. “You do?”

“That’s what I said.”

A swallow worked through her delicate throat. “No one has ever come to my game day,” she whispered in a heavy tone. “I mean, I do play with my friends, and I have my fans cheering me on, but I never had anyone be there just for me before.” A sad smile curved her lips. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot more than you think.”

“And I’ll be at every single one of them, I promise.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t make promises like that.”

“I think I can.”

“But what if you go on tour or you have an important concert?”

“I can switch the dates.”

“What if you get sick?”

“Don’t think that’s going to stop me.”

“What if there’s a tornado or something?”

“Then the game would be canceled.” I held my finger to her lip before she could ask the next question. “I made a promise, and I’m going to keep it. You just have to get used to me, firecracker.”

Her lower lip wobbled as her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “I think I’m going to cry,” she blubbered as she crashed into me with a tight hug.

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