Page 27 of From Drummer to Gamer

Raphy snorted, cupping his hand over his mouth like he was fighting a laugh.

Matty nodded, pressing a finger to his brow. “So where was I? Yes, security, I think you both get that. So let’s move on to some house rules…”

I rested my chin on my fist as I tried hard to pay attention, but his words drifted right past my head. Because I couldn’t stop looking at him.

Maybe he was right about the lighting because the sun acted like an accent light illuminating all his gorgeous features, hitting at the right angles.

Sharp cut jawline. Seafoam eyes. Straight nose.

His buzz-cut dirty-blond hair was cut so close to his hairline that it looked darker than it should. In every picture, he sported the same hairstyle. I wondered how he’d look with longer hair. But then, who was I kidding? He could probably pull off any hairstyle.

He was God’s favorite child, after all.

“Did you get all that?” Matty’s question wrenched me out of my gawking.

“Yes,” I blurted, to which, at the same time, Raphy said, scratching his head, “I think I got most of it. But it was like a boring algebra class in school.”

Matty sighed, then pulled out a folder and slid it to Raphy. “This is your schedule for the next month. Ollie, my assistant, will be your temporary manager till we sort everything out. K will… sorry, Katy’s the band’s manager—”

“And your sister. I know, man,” Raphy said.

Matty nodded. “She will send you an email with all the other details. Your vocal lessons started an hour ago, by the way. Stein doesn’t condemn tardiness, so you better get moving if you don’t want to get on his bad side. He’s waiting for you at the studio next door.”

“What? Now!?” Raphy groaned, throwing his hands.

Matty fixed him with a glare. “This is not a vacation. You’re here to work. And I expect serious commitment from you.”

“But still, big man.” Raphy pouted. “It’s only day one.”

“There is another clause in the contract. Did you know that?” Matty smirked. “I can also terminatethisanytime.”

“What!?” Raphy startled. “You won’t do that. You love me.”

“I don’t.” Matty tilted his chin as he regarded him. “And I can do anything I want. It’s my label.”

“Fine.” Raphy shot to his feet like a petulant child. “I’ll go,” he muttered, stealing a croissant from the table as he left.

Silence filled the room as I watched his back disappear out the door.

My eyes slowly darted to Matty, and I flushed when I saw his eyes were fixed on me. So pale, so green, both lacing together to form a shade that was sage in one light and turquoise in another.

Even his eyes were godlike.

Did God forget the rest of us existed?

“I’ll clean up. You can go.” He gestured toward my plate.

It was only then that I realized that I’d been gawking at him like a fool.

“No, that’s okay,” I replied. “I can clean up. You set all this up.” I was already on my feet, grabbing the plates and the bread basket.

“I don’t expect you to. You’re a guest,” he said, following me as he lifted a few plates himself.

“In the Chan household, guests help too.” I flashed him a smile, faltering when I saw him staring right at me.

The burn in my cheeks only deepened as I quickly dropped my gaze back to the dishes.

He seemed to be doing that a lot.