Page 44 of From Drummer to Gamer

“Why?” Matty questioned in his usual monotone voice. It was so hard to get a read on what was going on in his mind. Was he curious? Was he genuinely interested to know? Or was he asking because Raphy asked him to?

I guess I would never know when it came to Matty Evans. He was like a stoic puzzle piece that was formidable to break.

“Because cows are adorable. I once saw a commercial at a restaurant about how they were ethically sourcing beef, and I bawled my eyes out. How can they do that to those adorable creatures?”

Matty’s eyes flickered. “Understandable.”

“What about chickens then?” Raphy added, rolling his eyes.

I flushed, slurping the soda from the cup. “I can’t give everything up,” I mumbled.

Raphy shook his head and went back to the TV while Matty ate his burger in silence.

I sighed, struggling to keep my eyes open when I finished my dinner.

“I’m going to sleep. I have another lesson tomorrow,” Raphy groaned before pulling me into a hug. “Congratulations, Sister. I’m so proud of you,” he whispered for only me to hear before he shot off.

“Night, big man,” he hollered, walking away to his room.

At least I had one family member’s support.

“I’m going to sleep too.” I yawned into my palm. “I’m knackered.” I attempted a British accent as I slowly slid to my feet.

Matty nodded. “You go; I’ll clean this up.”

“Thanks,” I agreed, too tired to care. Just as I was halfway to my room, I remembered something. “Hey, Matty,” I called out, and he lifted his eyes from the table.

“I wanted to ask you something?”

“Yes?”

“Hmm, do you have any PC systems that I could borrow while I’m here?” I needed to clutch up on my skills as the next rounds would only get harder, and I couldn’t lose my touch. The nearest game café was thirty minutes away, and my team was an hour away, so if I had a system at home, it would be easy for me.

“What kind?”

“The one with a fast-processing rate, like higher fps and stuff. A higher RAM too, and possibly a cooling system.”

He frowned. “Like a gaming PC?”

Fuck. “No.” I laughed shakily. “But yes, something like that would be good. I study a lot, so it’s smoother that way.”

He was smarter than that to catch my lie, but he didn’t question it. “I’ll see what I can do. Go sleep, now,” he said softly.

A smile curved my lips. “Good night, Matty.”

The following morning, I woke up with a smile, surprisingly earlier than I expected. I padded to the kitchen just in time for Matty to make it back from his workout. I knew because I was timing it. He came in around nine, an hour later than he did the first day.

I was adding the finishing touches to his caramel latte when he arrived, dripping with sweat, looking oh-so delicious.

“Morning, Matty.” I flashed a smile, flushing as I stirred his drink.

Beads and beads of sweat were dripping down the side of his face, collecting down the neck of his sports tank, showing off his broad shoulders, thick biceps, sculpted triceps, and veined forearms.

The definitions of his carved body were ripped in a way that he probably belonged in a museum somewhere.

He wasn’t as tall as the other band members, but he was still tall at six feet and towered over me like a big bear. I was barely over five-one, so everyone was taller than me, but still, something about the way I felt small in his presence made me feel safe.

“Good morning, Sierra,” he said. His low, husky voice sent tingles down the curve of my spine.

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