Page 25 of From Drummer to Gamer

I was living with my favorite celebrity in the world while I competed in the tournament that would decide my fate.

Could life get any sweeter?

But get a grip, Sierra. You can’t act like the stupid idiot that you did yesterday.

I’d seen Matty Evans twice, and both times would be coined as the most embarrassing moments of my entire existence.

Honestly, I would blame my fucking brother again, who wouldn’t stop yapping the entire car ride here. He exhausted the fuck out of my bones. Even Mr. Tyler was forced to sit through the torture. Poor him.

But after this, it would be different. I couldn’t act like a crazy fangirl in front of Matty.

I internally sighed.

Matty.

I right about burst my ovaries when he asked me to call him Matty in his gruff, broody voice.

Focus,Sierra.

I needed to think of him as a normal fucking person.

Matty Evans can’t find out I’m his number-one fan.

That would ruin everything.

And everything needed to go perfectly according to plan.

Because even if one domino crashes out of the path line, then I’d be fucked forever.

Victoria Chan was already waiting for me with a pitchfork at the city limits.

Normal, be normal.

I could be normal, right?

I was funny, beautiful, and kind. I needed Matty Evans to see the real version of me rather than the blushing, screaming fangirl I was on the inside.

“Have a seat.” Matty’s husky voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

We all entered his dining room, the table decked with an extensive spread of breakfast that could feed at least ten people. To say he was mad this morning would be an understatement; he was ready to slam Raphy through one of his glass windows.

But mad Matty was so adorable. I couldn’t believe I got to have the firsthand chance of seeing all these layered sides of him.

I was the luckiest fucking fan in the world.

It only made him out to be more human than a god, sitting in a chair, smashing his drums like he was built for it.

As I was going to settle in my chair, a rough, calloused hand closed around my wrist and tugged me away.

“You sit here,” Matty commanded, pinning me with his eyes. He pointed at the chair on his right that Raphy was just about to get into.

Raphael paused, volleying his gaze at us.

“Why?” My brows furrowed.

“Just do it.”

My hands curled on the side of my waist. “Just because I live with you doesn’t mean you get to command me like your dog.” I met him head-on. “Now tell me the real reason.”