Page 122 of Diary of a Biker Queen

She scrunched her face up adorably, like she wasn’t sure if she should or not.

I just kept playing, my eyes shaded by the brim of my baseball cap and the lack of light around me. But I saw her, in every sparkling drop of moonlight that kissed her skin.

Fuck, she was beautiful.

The crowd grew around me, more and more people stopping to listen, and maybe if I hadn’t been so engrossed in the woman, I would have noticed their whispered comments earlier.

“Wait, I swear I know this guy.”

“Why is his voice so familiar?”

“Oh my God, it’s that guy from YouTube, isn’t it? Noise by Nobody? The guy who wears a mask when he sings?”

Fear jolted through me, and I hit a wrong note, my voice cracking painfully. The guitar let out a twang I hadn’t intended for it to make.

The man who had been so sure he knew who I was, shook his head. “Nah, it’s not him. He’s just doing his covers.”

His friends agreed with him as I shoved my guitar in its case as fast as I could. They walked away and relief crashed over me.

My heart raced, and I tried to breathe through the threatening panic attack. I didn’t play in front of people. Never had, never would. And yet I had tonight, because I’d been so distracted by a set of blue eyes that the rest of the world had seemed to disappear.

“You’re really good.”

I jerked and spun around.

Her.

She hadn’t left with all the others. She stood there at the end of my truck, watching me carefully.

Hot embarrassment chased its way up my neck, and I was glad it was too dark for her to see it. “Uh, thanks. I’m just messing around.” I swallowed thickly, dying on the inside that this woman had heard the songs I’d written late at night in my bedroom. Those words came from a place I didn’t know or recognize. From somewhere so deep inside me I was barely conscious of it. But every word felt like it had been pulled straight from my soul, and realizing a whole bunch of people, her included, had a front row seat that stared right inside my body had my skin crawling.

This was why I recorded myself wearing a mask.

I couldn’t write songs like that and then play them for the whole world to hear.

And yet I had tonight.

I’d been drinking. Shared a joint with Herb. That was the only logical explanation I had.

She cocked her head to one side. “So you aren’t the guy from YouTube all those people seemed to think you are?”

I forced a laugh and then lied through my fucking teeth. “Pretty sure that guy would be on a stage somewhere, not singing covers in the back of his truck.”

She nodded like that made sense.

Because it did.

Noise by Nobody had over a million followers across various social media apps. He stared at the camera in all his videos, baseball cap low, mouth and nose covered by a bandana. All he showed was his eyes, and he stared at the camera like he wanted to fuck every woman watching from the other side.

Noise By Nobody had women sliding into his DMs, offering everything from management to blow jobs. And he cooly ignored them all.

He wasn’t the man standing here now feeling so fucking tongue-tied because a beautiful woman had stopped to talk to him.

The wind blew a gust of dust and cold air at us, and the woman shivered once more, rubbing her arms. “It’s crazy how hot it is during the day, and how cold it gets at night. I did not dress appropriately.”

Her nipples strained at the thin cups of her bikini top, just another sign of how cold she was. For a second, all I could think about was putting my mouth over them and licking and sucking her until the warmth of my tongue relaxed them.

I realized I was just standing then like a creep, staring at her tits while she shivered.