Hold You Close (Seattle Sound Series Book 3)

by Alexa Padgett

  “That’s too bad. You should take better care of yourself.”

  I grunted. She kept trotting next to me.

  “I missed you guys. I even stayed on campus, hoping you’d do some shows.”

  “Nope. We went home for a while. You know, to see family.” Which is what you should’ve done, too.

  “I took a couple of classes. In fashion design? Oh, and my cousin came to visit. We went to a couple of gigs. Not as good as yours.”

  She batted her stubby eyelashes at me. Batted. Them.

  I shied away, unsuccessfully suppressing a shudder. Whatever she was thinking wasn’t going happen.

  “Glad you got to spend some quality family time. So I have to go. I’m late.”

  “But it’s 8:30. Next classes don’t stay until nine. We should grab a coffee. Catch up.”

  She put her small hand on my arm, and I suppressed the urge to shake her off. Bethany’s expression collapsed into one of hurt. I gritted my teeth against the good manners so ingrained in me by my mother. There was only one woman I wanted touching me. The one with the beautiful hair and intent, haunted expression.

  “Meeting with my advisor.”

  “Then I’ll see you at lunch?” Another hopeful, puppy-dog look.

  God, I hoped not. “Got some stuff to take care of.” A blatant lie I hated to give. No way I was eating on campus now. So much for first-day excitement “Bye.”

  I trotted into the music building and headed toward one of the empty practice rooms. Sure, Northern U wasn’t Berklee School of Music, but turning down that spot worked out pretty well because I was still getting an excellent education with state-of-the-art equipment and the chance to double major in finance. Meeting Dane and Kai that first week of school solidified the rightness of sticking close to home. We’d just gotten Cassidy’s Hodgkin’s diagnosis, and there was no way I could be on the East Coast worrying about my baby sister. In fact, I would’ve traded anything—including my band’s successes—to make sure Cassidy regained her health.

  I hadn’t brought my guitar, but I could work on scales on one of the grand pianos.

  I should be more patient with Bethany—her rabid interest in our band really helped get us off the ground three years ago when we were just starting out. She’d dated Dane then, much to his embarrassment.

  I’d never understood his attraction. She was tiny, perky, more than willing to help out. Dane said she was fun in bed, willing to try anything, always open to his ideas. Which was a place I would never go. Bethany loved to flash those soulful eyes. Eyes that held sharp interest and dark secrets.

  I hated secrets and lies. I’d lived with both for years from my peers and it was the fastest way out of my circle. Much as I wanted to kick Bethany out, I couldn’t tell a girl who was barely tall enough to ride a rollercoaster to get out of my space.

  I had, though, when she climbed naked into my bed after a party. Kicking her out had been a no-brainer—getting her to actually leave had been difficult. But I hadn’t fought her territorial growling too hard because the rest of the females on campus kept their distance. I liked the ability to walk around again without a mob of groupies following me—that had gotten old within weeks of playing our first gig our freshman year. As had the offers for just about anything sexual I could imagine. Not that I didn’t like sex. With the right person, sex was fantastic.

  I just wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship. Nor was I interested in a one-night stand. Limited my choices.

  Maybe I’d taken my celibacy too far, especially if I was panting after one glimpse of that mahogany hair and pert ass. I dropped my bag and shut the door. Setting the alarm on my phone, I sat down and began to play.

  I’d worked through all the minor scales and had nearly finished one of my favorite Prokofiev’s etudes when I realized whom that girl was.

  My fingers collapsed onto the keys. “Holy shit.”

  “I agree that was a really shitty ending.”

  I turned on the bench. “Kai.” I fist bumped him. “Good seeing you, man.”

  “So what was that about? You were rocking that piece then you got this surprised look on your face and lost your concentration. I’ve never seen you do that before. Well, I don’t see you play the piano often either.”

  “I saw Abigail Dorsey this morning. By the fountain. She walked into the science building.”

  My frown deepened. I hadn’t liked that dude touching her. That bothered me more than the paparazzi. Kai raised his eyebrow. His arms were crossed and his gray tee shirt rode up his biceps, flashing his tattoos. One was some Celtic design. The one on the other side was Hebrew. He’d told me what they both meant right after he got them our freshman year, but I’d forgotten.

  “And we care about some chick because?”

  “She’s Asher Smith’s stepdaughter.”

  Kai dropped his hands to his sides and his eyes lit up. “Really? Think she can get me an autograph? Maybe a guitar lesson? That guy is amazing.”

  I shook my head and picked up my phone and bag. “You don’t play the guitar. You play the bass. And as the son of a rocker, I can tell you that’s the last thing she’s going to want. After you hitting on her, of course. She flattened a guy’s ego this morning in under ten seconds.”

  “Aw, stop being a dick. I could learn to rip the chords, especially if a rock legend was teaching me.”

  “No, Kai. Don’t do that. Actually, don’t even talk to her. You’d just ask her for sex and then be mad when she turned you down.”

  “Didn’t you see those pics of her? When she was at some school in Cali. Dude, she likes to party. Maybe Asher Smith brought her back to Seattle to get her to buckle down. He sure has since he met her mom. I’d be pissed if his music wasn’t so amazing.” Kai shook his head. “Maybe love can help with creativity. Cuz the Supernaturals are hitting a second wave of awesome I’ve never seen before.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  The familiar flush of heat creeping over my skin at the L-word. People went searching for it like it was the holy grail of youth and perfection. It wasn’t. My parents loved each other, and it was hard work for both of them. I was glad they were still together. Most of the time, anyway.

  “Asher’s just hit his stride, found some creative juice in the tank. I’m surprised Abbi’s here. I heard they didn’t get along,” I said, picking up my pack before turning off the lights, stepping out of the room and shutting the door.

  “Why are we talking about Asher Smith and some girl? Didn’t he get married?” Dane asked. He was shorter than me, thin, with a shaggy mop of blond hair. Both his eyebrows were pierced and he had a tattoo crawling up his neck. Some Manga character I figured he’d hate when he was thirty.

  My mom was old-fashioned. With a capital O. She’d made my brother and me promise not to get body art, and because my mom didn’t ask a lot, I was cool with her request.

  “Saw your ex already,” I said, letting my lip curl with disgust. “She was lying in wait for me. Expected a lunch invite. Because, you know, super fan.”

  Dane leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “We broke up years ago. And she’s more of a stalker than a super fan.”

  “Now she’s got her sights set on Mr. Banjo-player here,” Kai chuckled. “Thanks to Mumford and Sons and The Avett Brothers, the banjo is sexy. The new guitar and all that.”

  “If that was true, we would have traded you in for a cellist,” I said without any heat.

  Kai loved to tease me about the banjo, but when we’d started featuring it in our songs, our songs—and following—took off. I could play it and the kick drum at the same time, a trick I’d practiced from the time I was seven and my dad let me start playing on his old set down in the basement.

  “Bethany can look all she wants,” I said. “From a distance. She just can’t touch. And I wish she wouldn’t talk to me. She’s creepy.”

  “Dude, she’s like a third your size,” Dane said.

  “That’s part of the problem. W
e can’t be from the same species.”

  “She claims to love you,” Kai said.

  My shoulders tensed and I glared at him. “Love and rock-and-roll don’t mix. Like pickles and chocolate—two great tastes that are much worse together.”

  Kai snickered while Dane scratched his head, considering. “Not buying that. Nessa’s pretty awesome. Your parents are tight. Why don’t you follow that example?”

  “Clay thinks he saw Asher Smith’s stepdaughter here,” Kai said to ease my building tension. I never spoke to anyone about my dad’s affairs because that was the family line, and Kai and Dane assumed the long list of names linked to my father’s were to sell more magazines and website clicks. But Kai also knew how sensitive I was about the topic. I shot him a glance filled with thanks.

  “I’ve seen her. She lives across from Ness and Jenna. From what they’ve seen so far, she seems fairly quiet and serious.” Dane shrugged. “Maybe she pulled her shit together. Kinda would have to after those pics went live, right? I mean, she was a mess in those.”

  “What?” Kai rolled his eyes. “Now’s the time to live it up, baby. It’s not like Asher’s going to ride her about it. He did crazy shit when he was her age. Part of why he’s my hero.”

  “I don’t think she’s a partier,” Dane said. If Nessa told him that, he’d run with it. This was another reason why I was against long-term relationships. Dane couldn’t have his own thoughts anymore. “I read an article about him—did you see it? Went live last week. He talked about how he was hurt and did lots of stupid stunts because the girl he wanted was with someone else. The girl turned out to be Abbi’s mom. They’re all settled in, playing family.”

  “She’s hot,” I said. “Abigail. Cool name, all old-fashioned. Probably why she’s such a partier.”

  “Invite her to our show next week,” Kai said. “Maybe she can talk Asher into coming.”

  I shook my head again. “If my folks find out she’s here, they’ll ask me to befriend her.”

  “Something crawled up your ass. So you have to be nice? It’ll get you closer to Asher.” Kai asked. “And to Abigail.”

  “Naw, man, I don’t want to use her like that.” Mainly because I didn’t want to get too close. My reaction to her—from a distance—had been electrifying. What if I actually met her? I could already see the headlines: Local rocker screwing school party girl. Both go up in flames.

  Nope. Not happening. Famous people couldn’t stick it out. Look at Brangelina. If that paradise blew, then I didn’t stand a chance at dating some chick with her own famous people problems and hang-ups.

  “It’s like you have feelings,” Kai mocked.

  I shrugged. “I feel just fine. For the right people.”

  “Hookups don’t count.” Kai snorted, thinking, no doubt, about my lack of dating the past year and a half.

  “Yeah. All three of ‘em last year. What are you up to, man-whore?” I responded with more rancor than any of us expected.

  “Did you get Abbi’s number?” Dane asked as he pushed between us. Both Kai and I had some inches on him, but Dane was quick. Plus, he’d studied ten different kinds of martial arts growing up so he knew all kinds ways to break me into pieces, fast. “You did that at least. Right?”

  “I didn’t get her number because I didn’t talk to her. And you guys aren’t going to bother her either. She’s a hot mess.” A beautiful, famous hot mess. “We don’t need that shit in our orbit.”

  I glared at both of them until Dane threw his hands up in the air.

  “I’m not dirty macking your girl. Got my own. Chill, dude.”

  “She’s not my girl. Look, we’ve got to make this semester shine. We’ve been working hard for that contract. We’re not screwing ourselves over because of some chick.”

  We entered the classroom. Each of us studied various aspects of music, and this was our only course together this year. I missed hanging out with Dane and Kai on campus more often but I was glad to see the light at the end of this slog. Double majoring wasn’t the easiest of choices.

  “Whatever you say, bucko. But I can tell. You like her,” Kai said.

  “I don’t,” I said, scowling.

  “Yet,” Kai said. He stretched out in his seat, eyes wondering to the few females already in their seats. Dismissing them, he turned back to me. “I’ve never seen you wound so tight about one before. And you didn’t even talk to her.”

  “Yet.” Dane smirked.

  “Drop it. Both of you. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.”

  The instructor came in, and I was glad for the interruption. But Kai made a point, much as I hated to admit it. Something about Abigail had gotten to me. And I didn’t like it—not one bit.

  Footsteps pounded down the stairs. I braced myself at the bottom, legs spread and arms open. Cassidy hurled herself into my arms as she’d done every time I came home. She seemed even lighter than she had the last time I’d held her in my arms two weeks ago.

  I rubbed her back, counting each of her vertebrae on the way down. I hated the physical manifestation of her illness. I squeezed my eyes shut, heart aching, as I held my baby sister for a long moment.

  “Missed you, ladybug.”

  She wiggled free from my arms and set her fists on her little hips. “I told you not to call me that anymore. I’m fourteen. Do you want to embarrass me in front of my friends?”

  “Course not, Cassidy. Just, you know, it’s hard for big brothers to remember you’re growing up.” Sort of. Though I was beyond thankful she was home for her fifteenth birthday next week. Four years ago, Cassidy was healthy and even bubblier than she was now.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “You sound like Mom. All she did after our appointment yesterday was cry.” Cassidy rolled her eyes. Like me, Cassidy had inherited our mom’s green eyes. But Cassidy’s were darker than mine, more uniform in color, and looked way too large for her thin face. The second round of chemotherapy had been so hard on her, but her hair was finally growing back and she looked cute with the dark fluff swirling around her head. I was still trying to get used to the color—Cassidy used to have dirty blond hair.

  Like so many details of our lives, her hair color was pretty much a nonissue.

  I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Clearing my throat, I tried again. “So that means the doctors were wrong and you’re not in remission?”

  Cassidy frowned at me. “It means I’m not dead yet, and I’d really like it if someone would remember that I have a life to live.”

  I swallowed down my follow up question, knowing it would irritate her more. As soon as possible, I’d ask about the appointment. Right now, Cassidy needed normalcy.

  “That you do, Cassie. How about we hit the pool?”

  “Now you’re talking! Be right back.” Cassidy ran up the stairs. Sometimes, like now, she seemed so unaffected by her illness, it was hard to remember just how touch-and-go her prognosis had been.

  “Hey, honey,” Mom said, sliding an arm around my waist.

  “Cassidy said you cried after her appointment yesterday. Everything okay?”

  Mom’s eyes, so like Cassie’s, filled with tears again. She’d aged a lot these past few years as Cassidy sank deeper into the disease. I bit the inside of my cheek, hating the secret I’d kept from her. Seeing her now, vulnerable, I knew I’d made the right decision. For her.

  I hugged her tighter, wishing these past few years were different.

  “The PET scan was clean.”

  “That’s great.” I grinned. Damn, that was the best news I’d heard in ages. “Excellent. So why the tears?”

  Mom cleared her throat. “It’s just…we didn’t expect her to make it during the last round. I’m so happy.”

  I wrapped my arms around her again and let her cry. After a moment, she patted my chest. “You’re a good man, Clay. Thanks. I needed that. Your dad’s trying, but…” she sighed, looking away. “Nearly losing Cassie changed him.”

 
More than my mom knew. The anger swelled again. We’d all been to counseling when Cassie was sick, and Dr. Thomas suggested I talk to my dad about the situation. I’d been too hurt, then too angry to broach the subject.

  With Mom and Dad stable and Cassie improving, it seemed like the wrong time to bring up Dad’s affair. Correction. His last affair that I knew about. I didn’t want to shatter my mom’s happiness. She, like Cassie, deserved the best of everything. I bent and kissed her cheek.

  “Anything for the prettiest lady I know.”

  Mom chuckled as she wiped away her tears. “You are such a flirt. Just like your father.”

  “Nah.” Horror and frustration built in my throat, clinging there. If I didn’t keep my feelings buried, my mom would notice. I looked away, pretending to be searching for Dad. “Where is he, by the way?”

  “In the hot tub with Colten.”

  “Let’s head that way, then.”

  “You go. I’m still too weepy to be much fun. I’ll join you in a bit.”

  I gave her a final squeeze before heading out the pool. It was indoors, taking up what would’ve been the basement if we’d had one. Seattle was really too cold for an outdoor pool most of the year, but Mom had insisted we put one in when Colten and I were young. We’d had too much energy for her to run off.

  Once Dad finally figured out how to get and keep the money he’d earned from his record label, he’d hired the workers as a gift to Mom, and the natatorium turned out to be the most-used room in the house.

  My brother and Dad were there, leaning back and enjoying the hot bubbles.

  “Clay. Glad you could come.”

  Dad smiled at me. I’d searched his eyes and smile for months to see if he looked different, acted differently. He didn’t, and that led me to wonder how many times he’d cheated on my mom over the years. Had our pool been a gift to assuage his guilt?

  I cleared my throat, forcing the word asshole back down.

  “Sorry I’m late. Slept in. Cassidy told me the good news. I’m sure you’re relieved.”

  A shadow crossed Dad’s face. “Yeah, now Cassidy can enjoy being a girl again.”