Page 22 of From Drummer to Gamer

“Through here.” I gestured for them to get in and waited with a hand by the elevator door as they hurried. “This is a private elevator,” I explained. “Just for the band and the family. The code for the elevator is two-four-two-four-seven-seven.”

“I’m not good with numbers. Can you write it down for me?” Raphael questioned, which both Sierra and I ignored. I guess we were both at the breaking point for his antics.

I released a breath of relief when the elevator landed on our floor.

“It’s the first one to the right,” I stated.

Raphael exited first, trudging his two suitcases and guitar case through the empty hallway.

I took hold of the handles of the suitcases that Sierra was clutching and pulled them toward me.

“That’s okay, I can take them,” she said, shyly looking at me through her lashes.

My mother would have my throat if I let a lady carry her bags. “Go.” I gestured for her to get out before the doors closed.

“Ah, okay.” She jumped, casting me a shaky smile as she hurried out, but the shiny golden doors drew shut just then, catching the edge of her backpack.

A squeal left her lips as she dangled midway.

“Careful,” I bit out.

I slammed one hand on the door and the other on the bag and pushed her out, but instead, she lost her balance and tumbled on me.

The air gets knocked out of my lungs when I maneuver her on top of me to take the fall. My back landed hard on the marble floor, with the two suitcases crashing on my side and a soft weight colliding right on my gut.

“Fuck,” I grunted.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Two pairs of palms pressed on my chest as Sierra scrambled to a seat on top of me, with her feet on my sides. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Evans.” Her smooth skin burned a bright red, and her eyes shone wide in panic. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. Are you hurt?”

“No,” I grumbled. This wasn’t the position I’d imagined we’d be in on the first day. Under different circumstances or different scenarios, this would’ve been highly inappropriate, but I killed that thought as soon as it came. That was never happening.

“I’m so glad.” She sighed, looking at me with her molten hazel eyes but still didn’t attempt to move.

“Umm.”

“Yes?” She smiled, leaning forward.

“Are you going to move?”

Her eyes rounded so big that I worried they were going to bug out of her head.

“Ah, yes, yes, Mr. Evans.” She nodded frantically and tried to escape to the right but got blocked by her heavy suitcase and landed right back on me.

I huffed a breath. “Call me Matty.”

Her eyes snapped to mine. “Yes…yes,” she stammered. “Matty,” she said hesitantly as if she couldn’t believe it.

“Yo, what’s going on here?” Raphael finally showed up, holding the elevator door open. “Sierra, have you executed your plan already?” He grinned with glee.

Plan?

Sierra turned another shade of red, deeper than the last time. “You fucker. Shut the fuck up and help me out.”

“Fine.” He laughed.

It took exactly five minutes to finally get out of that death trap. I was never going in another elevator withheragain.

Ever again.

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