Chasing Kane Read Free

Maybe CJ could be the exception, at least for a while.
    “Whatchya gonna have him play?” I asked with masked amusement as we shut ourselves into the tight sound booth.
    Without a word, and only a slight grin, Yardley clicked on the mic that allowed her to talk to CJ on the other side of the window.
    “All right, hot stuff. Feel like some Travis Barker?” She said it like she had all the authority in the world which, at least at GSE, she did. I immediately dropped my head, shaking it as I braced myself for CJ’s reaction.
    Sure enough, it came. “That rusty son of a bitch, are you serious? Is Blink 182 the only damned band with an okay drummer anyone knows anymore?” He held his sticks out in epic offense. “People really have to stop comparing me to him.”
    “Well,” Yardley grinned against the microphone, “guess you should stop getting tattoos like his and stop walking around like your shit doesn’t stink … like he does then, huh?”
    I chuckled and took a cleansing breath.
    This was going to be a long summer.

Two
Regan
    “You’ve really never tapped that?” CJ asked as we saddled up to the dark, mahogany bar at Molly Molloy’s tavern. Molly’s by the locals, and Molly Molloy’s by drunk men reporting their whereabouts to their wives and girlfriends.
    “CJ! I was with Georgia before I even met Yardley. You’d better hope I answer no to that.”
    “Damn straight.” He clinked his heavy mug into mine. “ You’d better hope, you scrawny motherfucker.” He’d always been protective of Georgia.
    I rolled my eyes. “Your mouth . God . Care to clean it up?”
    He shook his head unapologetically. “Not really. Why? You entering the priesthood?”
    “Adulthood,” I shot back. He, in turn, gave me the finger for the second time today.
    “Anyway,” he said, swallowing half the contents of his mug in a few sips, “I think today went pretty well.”
    “Me too. Don’t get cocky,” I preemptively cautioned. “You’re not the only decent drummer to walk through those doors, and you won’t be the first one escorted out by the tip of Yardley’s shoe if you don’t pull your weight.”
    His face turned serious. “Cut me some fucking slack, would you? God, you’ve been on my ass since I got here”
    He was right, and I instantly felt bad. “I’m sorry, dude. Look, I just … ugh, it’s hard having my cousin and wife being best friends. Especially when they’re at war. And she likes Frankie, to top it all off, so you breaking things off with her really set Georgia on a warpath yesterday.”
    “Why does she care so damn much?” He looked down, something he’d done a lot already today, and seemed like he was cursing himself. I don’t know … he just wasn’t truly himself. Not the self of the last few years, anyway.
    “She cares about you,” I answered honestly. “We both do. She knows Frankie was and is good for you.” Finally, I was honest with him. “Why’d you really cut her loose? You’ve been on small tours while with her before and held it together with fidelity. Why break things off now?”
    CJ held his hand up to the bartender, pointing to a front-and-center bottle of tequila before pointing back to us.
    Great.
    With shots in hand, CJ toasted our summer together, and didn’t say another word until we swallowed the smooth liquor.
    “I’m freaked out,” he admitted, to my astonishment.
    I kept my cool, pushing hopes of his impending growing-up down as far as they’d go. “About?”
    “Settling down. All that.”
    I proceeded with extreme caution. Talking to CJ about commitment to anything beyond his drum set was a risky maneuver. I reminded myself to take it slow. “Frankie puttin’ the pressure on for marriage, or something?”
    He shrugged. “Maybe I’m putting the pressure on myself, I guess. Thirty isn’t too far off. I’ve got plenty of money and tons of options in front of me in computers and music … what am I stalling on?”
    “I …” I was so shocked by