“I was just thinking if I found a long enough stick, I could jab Principal Pin Dick in the backside.”
He chuckled. “Is that what you call him?”
“It suits him, I think. He’s got that PDE—Pin Dick Energy.”
This time, he laughed, and it lit up his whole face. Dimples popped out, transforming his features. These dimples inspired the online fan-made videos of him drumming, overlaid with music and special effects highlighting his incredible physique or the secret, shy grins he sent his bandmates as he played. Those zoomed-in shots when he thought nobody was looking, where his head dropped back and his focus took over, were the definition of sexy.
Lordy, he was attractive and there was nary a drum kit in sight. It must have just been the memory of watching those videos. The sweat dripping from his dark curls, glistening his abs—because, of course, he would take his shirt off during performances—the delicate way he held his drumsticks, firm but loose.
That finger dexterity though . . .
I stepped back as feet stomped with a roar of cheers above us. I cleared my throat to hide the burning and instant heat that flushed through me.
How could my body feel so much electricity for this man when my brain booed from the cheap seats and chanted, Focus on the plan!
I didn’t think this sort of attraction was a real thing. I was the type that admired intelligence, compassion, and hard work ethics. This slacker was the antithesis of all that. Time to get this show back on track.
“What did you think of Cath?” I asked.
He stepped back as well to glance in the crack where he must have been watching the performance. “She’s great.” He tucked his hands in his jeans and lifted his shoulders to his ears. “That was never in doubt.”
“Then you agree to help her?” I asked hopefully.
“It’s not that. I-I don’t think that I’m the best—” He took a breath in and out, unable to complete a single sentence. When he found me waiting, it was like he was trying to muster the words, trying to read something off me. He’d gone quiet again as something he’d seen on me held him back. He wouldn’t just say no. He waited for me to speak. He wanted me to tell him that it wasn’t going to work because he couldn’t just say the truth.
I had thought we were warming up to each other, but his inability to be honest was infuriating.
I left my features blank.
“She’s incredible,” Leo finally said slowly and carefully. “But impressive drumrolls on quads won’t be enough for somewhere like Berklee. How is she on a full set? How’s her jazz drumming? All these things would be required on an entrance audition, right?”
Had he researched what sort of requirements she might have? Was that a tinge of hope I felt?
“She’s incredible. On a full set too. Playing rock or jazz. Whatever you throw at her, she can do it,” I said, attempting to keep myself relaxed.
He glanced to the side, and I felt him getting ready to make an excuse. I was starting to soften toward the dingus, and I didn’t want to do something that might piss him off. I reached for my phone in my back pocket and searched the calendar for the next several weeks. “Come to dinner with me.”
He stilled, holding my gaze, when I looked up from my phone. “You want me to go out with you? In public?”
“Next Saturday. At the Front Porch. The jazz quartet is doing a dinner show,” I said.
“Oh. Right,” he said, staring at the ground.
“We also have our first full symphony performance in October. That’s a bit of a ways away, but that will be good. Oh, and we’re performing at the Fall Festival. That should be fun. You should come to all of them.” I locked my phone screen. His face had taken a greenish tint.
“I’m not sure about my calendar.” He avoided my gaze as I put away my phone.
“It would be good for you to see her.” I kept my voice even and proudly did not call him any names.
“You go to all of these?”
“Yeah, of course. I think you should try to make it. At least Saturday.”
“To the Front Porch?”
“Yep. I’m not directing for this one, more like moral support. Make sure they get set up and everything. They won’t need me while they play, but I like to be there to ensure it goes smoothly. And I want to talk to the owner about some donations. It’s a free concert, but I hope they will consider donating after that. That’s another reason I like to go. Feed two birds with one scone.”
The words were flying out of my mouth before I could stop them. I couldn’t help myself. This band, these kids, they were my life. I had to admit, Leo had a way of making me chatty. Maybe because he was as quiet as a church mouse.
