Page 12 of Banging the Drummer

“More than you would think,” I say.

“So what are you going to wear to the concert?” she asks.

“Oh shit. I haven’t even thought about that.”

Hours later when I’m supposed to be packing my stuff to drive to Austin, I still don’t know the answer to that question.

The truth is, Mason has me tied up in knots. Or Maybe Mason. I still don’t know for sure. I grab a few of my favorite funny history t-shirts. We’ve talked about what a history nerd I am—duh, social studies teacher—and that I love punny shirts.

I kiss my cat Jar-Jar on the head and tell him to be a good boy, then I’m on my way to Austin.

I am fully aware that I’m setting myself up for a heartache with this. I mean best case scenario, I really have been communicating with Mason Ball. But I have zero doubt that the flirting we’ve done, via email and then phone, will be nothing more than him being a friendly celebrity trying to connect with a fan.

Is that what it feels like?

No. Not even a little bit.

Instead, it feels like he’s the first person who can truly see me. Not Luna, the teacher. Not Luna, the big sister. Not Luna, the small-town Texas girl. Nope, he sees straight to Luna, the woman.

Maybe I should have taken Mason up on his invite to meet him somewhere before the show, but I’m too damn scared to do something like that. Instead, we’ll be meeting backstage at the concert when I join the rest of the girls. And I’m bringing my brother with me. Partially because Max is a closet fan of Soul Obsession, but also because I’m a chicken shit.

chapter

eight

Mason

The show went great tonight. I’m a hot, sweaty mess, but I’m glad the set is over. I’ve been enjoying the tour so far, and there’s always a rush of adrenaline. But knowing that Luna, my Moonbeam, was out in the audience watching me intensified the rush exponentially.

Shelby said she made sure that Luna got her backstage passes and that she had already spoken with her and knew she was here. I have no idea what Luna looks like and frankly, it doesn’t even matter to me. I’ve seen her heart, her sense of humor and her courage, she’s already the most beautiful woman to me.

The last message I got from her said she was wearing a nerdy history shirt and had her dark brown hair up in what she called ‘space buns.’

I should probably go take a shower, but I want to see her too badly. So I wipe my face and neck off with a towel and run my fingers though my blond hair before pulling it back up on the sides. The guys call it my Thor hair.

Shelby and Ireland appear, and I see some brown hair behind them. My heart pounds and fuck if this doesn’t feel like my first date. I see her t-shirt first. It’s a cartoon illustration of a wooden horse on wheels. Under it boldly reads: Trojan Horse: Worst Piñata Ever.

I laugh out loud because that’s hilarious.

Then I take in all of her as she approaches me. Her lush curves are on full display. Not because she’s wearing something revealing; she’s casual in jeans and her t-shirt. But nothing is overly baggy. She’s not hiding behind big clothes. I can see and appreciate the softness of her body. Wide hips, thick thighs and big, round tits. My mouth waters.

She’s perfect.

“Luna?” I ask.

She smiles brightly and there’s a slight gap in between her two front teeth. A small gold ring adorns the right side of her nose. I’m not even sure I would have seen it if the light hadn’t hit it just right. It’s delicate and feminine and definitely makes me wonder if she has any other body parts pierced.

“Hi Mason. Holy hell, I can’t believe I’m meeting you.”

I grin back at her. “I’d hug you, but I’m disgusting right now.”

“I don’t mind your sweat,” she says and then she’s pressed against me, her arms going around my waist.

I wrap my arms around her shorter frame, loving the way her softness meets my hard angles. “Hey Moonbeam,” I say quieter, where only she can hear.

She steps back from me, still smiling. I can’t believe she’s finally here. Right in front of me. Within arm’s length. I want to pull her back to me and keep her pressed against me for the rest of the night.

The rest of my life.