Page 22 of Banging the Drummer

Still, the thought of being without him makes me want to shrivel up.

So do I walk away from my family and my town and my school? To follow him and live in his fancy world of town cars and drivers and executive level hotel suites? That’s not my life. I'm more of a La Quinta on the side of the road kind of girl.

I can’t deny the connection between us. I can't ignore it, make excuses for it, or pretend it doesn’t exist.

I don't know if he feels for me as strongly as I feel for him. Maybe it happened so fast for me because I was already halfway there. Maybe that teenage crush just—boom—blossomed into love. I don't know.

I might not know how it works or how it happened, but I do know how I feel. And I know, without a doubt, that’s not going to change.

I've never felt even a fraction of this for anyone else. Just being next to him, having his eyes on me, feels like it's the way my life is supposed to be.

I shampoo my hair, then rinse and condition. I don't have any of my toiletries with me. So I'm using whatever brand they have in the shower. It smells amazing whatever it is.

By the time I make it out of the shower, dry off and wrap myself in the complimentary fluffy white bathrobe, my stomach is growling. I pad out into the bedroom. Mason is wearing his jeans again, but he's barefoot and shirtless.

He's sitting in the chair near the window, guitar across his thighs. He strums and picks at the strings, singing softly.

Moonbeam shines like diamonds in her eyes.

Her touch is a melody, soft, serene.

In her arms, I'm finally free.

With every heartbeat, our souls entwine.

One deep breath.

Forever.

She's mine.

I swipe at the tears rolling down my cheeks. I’d forgotten how pure his voice is when it’s just him singing with a guitar.

“Did you write that for me?”

He glances up, smiling. “I did. It’s not done yet. Not perfect.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

This is like a fantasy.

Only better. It's hard to explain because I know that teenage Luna would be completely wigging out right now.

This Mason, though, feels like my Mason. Not like the one that everyone else gets to see on the stage. But the one that is just for me.

“Hey, Moonbeam,” he says, giving me a crooked smile. “You okay?” He sets the guitar aside and comes and embraces me.

“I’m perfect.”

There's a knock on the door. “That's our food,” he says.

“Great! I’m starving.” While he goes to the door to get the food, I crawl up onto the bed. I guess I think I’m just waiting for him to serve me now? Who am I? How quickly I got spoiled.

He rolls the room service tray into the bedroom.

“We had sex,” I blurt.

He chuckles. “We did. I enjoyed it.”