Read Online HOLD by Cora Brent - Free Book Online

you.” 
    She smiled a beautiful Truly smile and offered me a soft, sweet kiss before pulling on her shoes and heading for the door.  I was more than used to the way she’d talk on and on.  I meant it when I said I was always listening.  I always have been.  I always would be. 
    “Love you!” she called and blew a kiss. 
    “Love you too,” I shouted back. 
    I hoped she wouldn’t spend too much energy today fretting over her sister’s unknown troubles.  From everything I knew of Mia she wasn’t a fan of self-disclosure so worrying was a waste of time.  But I knew the pain of watching someone you cared about struggle with her demons.  It was a different kind of hell. 
    After jumping in the shower myself I decided to spend some quality time with my guitar.  For years all my playing came from the gut, or the heart or whatever region tickles your sentiments.  There was no training, no lessons.  Just me and the music.  But once I started performing I understood I had a lot to learn.  I’d never been an eager student, not even when I was a kid, but it turned out that all it took was the right subject. I learned how the black dots on a sheet of music translated into sound and even started writing some of my own.  It wasn’t country and it wasn’t rock.  It was something in between and it was enough to catch the attention of a few music scouts who whispered big ideas about tours and label deals.  So far I’d sold a few songs that I’d composed but then drawn the line there.  I couldn’t imagine being prettied up and trotted out all over the nation, curling up on a shelf-like bed in a stinky tour bus every night and wishing to god I was home with my woman. 
    No.  The famous life was never my ambition.  If it meant that I wouldn’t get any further than four shows a week and an enthusiastic local following then I was fine with that.  With Truly beside me I was planning on building something a lot more important than superstardom. 
    When I emerged from the music I was surprised to see that it was well into the afternoon.   I should be used to the way time stood still when I was deep in a music trance.  I knew it was the same way for Cord and his art. 
    Speaking of Cord, I remembered that if I wanted to squeeze in some time at the gym before I had to go meet the boys then I’d better get moving. 
    The gym I’d recently switched to was a little more upscale than the ones close to the university.  There were still the usual muscle rats roaming around looking for someone to impress and a few soccer moms sweating on the elliptical machines but other than that the place was pretty empty.  
    I worked the weight machines for a while and then spent some time on the treadmill.  I could have easily gone a lot longer but the evening approached. I still needed to shower off and stop at home to change into something that didn’t include gym shorts. 
    The plan was to meet out in Tempe at Scratch, the tattoo place Cord and Deck have been running together since Cord’s girls were babies.  As I got close to the university I saw a lot of youthful faces rolling down the sidewalks on bicycles and skateboards. I shook my head with a small chuckle that these kids should seem so young to me when it wasn’t too long ago that I was living down here among them. 
    Scratch was located in a cozy, eclectic neighborhood a few blocks from campus, one of the older areas that still had some midcentury flavor from when Tempe was a sleepy college town.  The shop was in a low-roofed block construction strip mall, flanked by a second hand clothing store and a hookah joint.  It was only a few blocks away from The Hole.
    After I parallel parked my way into the only open street-side spot I scanned the area for Chase’s truck.  I didn’t see it, but then I was ten minutes early and Chase was never on time for anything if he could get away with being late. 
    The sign on the door to Scratch was already turned to