Page 90 of Closer

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

THE HOFF’S SIDEKICK

LEVI

Ienter the auditoriumand take a seat in the front row beside Zed. He pulls me in for a bro hug. His face splits into a massive childlike grin, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes too. Today isn’t just hard for me because of my visit with the good doc. It’s the first day we choose a new bassist after Ash died. The label made some big fucking publicity stunt out of it.Of course. There’s a line around the block of eager boys and girls holding their shiny little basses, just waiting to get their rock on.

“You’re late,” Ryan says, sipping his tea. It’s that herbal shit Ali got us all on for vocalists with a special kind of waxy-honey derivative.

“Sorry, head shrinking takes up a lot of my jacking off time these days.”

He nods and bites his lip, staring back at the empty stage. “How’s your hand?”

“Good, had a good rub and tug session last night so ...” I trail off, because Cooper Ryan is all business today. “It’s fine.”

“If you’re not up to playing, just sit it out. The last thing we need are journalists sniffing around at any more of our shortcomings.”

I grind my teeth. “You meanmyshortcomings?”

He glares, and Ali whacks him on the arm. “Leave him alone, dumbarse.”

“I’m just trying to make sure he doesn’t fuck it all—”

“I said I got it? Okay? Fuck, Ryan. Can you get off your high horse for a goddam second.”

“I’m gonna elbow you both in the nutsack if you don’t shut the fuck up, and smile for the goddamn cameras,” Zed says, and we all turn to look at him.He’s right. Coop and I have never been copasetic, but even with Red between us, we still got along better than we were now.

We smile and play happy rock gods for the camera while Vanessa stands behind the photographers with a big cheesy grin plastered on her face. Ali and Deb move several seats down, so they’re not caught up in the bullshit of flashing lights and sensationalism.

After a brief interview with the reporters, they take their seats at the back of the auditorium and we settle in for several long hours of torturous auditions.

By lunch, we’ve shortlisted two players already, but then a guy walks on stage with floppy dark hair and eyes so blue they’re almost creepy. He shields his eyes from the bright stage lights before landing on Red in the front row. My hackles go up, because though I may not be in love with her anymore, I still love her. I always will, and I can’t help but be protective of her with all the shit she went through just being associated with Cooper and me. I’m preparing to jump up on the stage and beat the crap out of old flopsy there when he gives her a chin nod, and turns his attention to us. “Hey, I’m Kit.”

“Kit? What is he, The Hoff’s fucking sidekick?”

Zed chuckles, and Ali surprises the shit out of all of us by cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting, “Fuck yeah!”

And then I see it, the self-depreciating smile that breaks out across his face. His whole vibe has been transformed from nervous bassist not really sure what the fuck he’s doing here to rock star. The women are going to lose their shit over this guy, whether it’s as the newest member of the band Taint, or as a solo act. I glance at Vanessa, who’s practically chomping at the fucking bit to hand him her business card.

“Thanks, Ali. It’s nice to have one fan.”

“What are you playing, Kit?” Coop says.

“I thought I’d lead with ‘Cover Me’.”

My spine stiffens. Ash wrote that song. It’s the only song that Ash ever penned solo, and it’s as fucking awesome as it is heart-wrenching.Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Only I would pull a move like that.

“If that’s okay?” he says nervously. “I just ... er ... I’ve followed him from the beginning.”

“Makes sense,” Ryan whispers so only Zed and I will hear him. “He’ll be playing Ash’s song if he gets the gig.”

“Right,” I say, but I don’t like it.

“Play away, good man,” Zed says, and Kit grins again. For a split second, I swear he exhales in relief, but he steps back from the mic and glances down at his bass, turning the tuning pegs before launching into a pretty impressive rendition of our brother’s song. When it gets to the part where Ash usually does his solo, I glance around at the reporters. Everyone in the room is wrapped up in this guy, including Ali and Deb—who never gets wrapped up in anything unless it’s a verbal sparring match. Ryan looks at Zed, and then over at me.

“You wanna jam, with him?”

“Is your sister hot?” Zed replies with a grin. Ryan’s own smile fades.

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