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“I say we go for it.”

I asked, “Kyle…you sure you’re good with this?”

“Yeah. But I think I’m gonna need a stiff drink or two.”

Pulling out my debit card again, I said, “I got it.”

Maybe this was all Kyle needed to get back on track—and I would gladly grease those wheels a bit.

Even if it did mean rent might be a day or two late next month.

CHAPTER 6

We’d all moved back to the bar, taking up a big part of the counter—but The Apothecary hadn’t gotten too busy that evening, a possible sign that maybe our banddiddraw in a few people when we played live or, more often, practiced in front of people.

After we had a few beers in us and we’d been talking about the future, Pedro said, “So, Wolf man…do you need time to think about it?”

“I already have been.”

“Yeah? So what do you think?”

Pulling a shot glass out from underneath the bar, Wolf turned and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels off the shelf. “I want to know whatyouguys think. You’ve all been together…for quite a while.”

Kyle said, “Since high school.”

“Yeah—and you just lost someone important to you personally and professionally. Are you guys even ready to pick up your instruments again?”

“I’mnot,” Kyle admitted. “But I feel like I’m holding everyone back.”

Pedro drained his bottle and set it on the bar. “Dude, you’re not. If you need us to hold off a little longer—”

“No. I gotta admit…when I heard you playing,” Kyle said, looking at Wolf, “I felt more stoked than I have in a long time.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Wolf’s green eyes were genuine and sincere, and I could feel something positive in the air amongst us all. “But I have to say I can’t really picture myself in your group. I don’t know that I’m the right fit.”

“Bullshit, man. You can play. Your sound is solid. Anything else, wemakefit.”

Wolf filled the shot glass with Jack Daniels but his face was like a slab of granite: unreadable.

Adrian spoke up for the first time in a while. “You’re an awesome axeman—but you make a good point. Guys, Wolf’s gotta be at least twenty years older than us.”

“Not quite.” Wolf downed the shot.

“How will that sit with our existing fans?”

“Whatfans?” I asked. “You mean that guy over there?” Pointing to the short side of the bar, I spoke directly to the man who’d been nursing a beer all night, quite engaged in eavesdropping—not that our loud-ass voices made that difficult. “What doyouthink, mister? Would bringing Wolf on board ruin our stage presence?”

The man started laughing. “Missy, I don’t know what the hell that means—but I know good music when I hear it. Who gives a damn what y’all look like?”

Nicely said but half bullshit, as he was one of the dirty old men who seemed to like watching me.

Kyle said, “If you guys give a shit whatIthink, I say we give it a try. I don’t care how old you are, man,” he said, looking at Wolf. “But hearing you play made me want to pick up my guitar for the first time in a while—and if that counts for shit, then I sayyeah.”

That was all I needed to hear.

Pedro said, “Then I think that settles it. You wanna be our lead guitarist?”

Wolf poured another shot. “Can I think about it?”

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