A FILTHY Friend (Filthy Line Book 5)

by Jaxson Kidman

  “I’m so sorry, Mia,” Sebastian said. “Let me take her home.”

  “No.”

  “Listen to me,” Sebastian said. His voice was deep, rough, protective. “You have a husband and a kid, right?”

  “Yeah? So?”

  “Where are they right now?”

  “They went to get something to eat.”

  “She’s going to feel like she’s in the way. Right?”

  “Don’t come back to town for thirty seconds and think that you know her,” Mia said. “You left, Sebastian.”

  “I never stopped talking to her,” he said.

  I shook my head.

  Please don’t argue over me. Please…

  “I don’t want to argue over her with you,” Sebastian added. “I’m just trying to be reasonable here. Let me take her home and get her settled in her bed. I’m not going anywhere right now. I’ll stay as long as she needs. Same for you. You have a husband and a kid. They need to come home too. Shit, Mia, you need a minute to yourself too.”

  “Wow,” Mia said. “That rock star world really taught you how to be smooth, huh?”

  “Are you suddenly smitten with me?” Sebastian asked.

  “No,” she said. “But you’re making sense. That worries me.”

  “Why don’t you call your husband and tell him to come home,” Sebastian said. “When he’s about five minutes away, I’ll take Bree and leave. First thing tomorrow when she wakes up, she’ll call you. Or text. Sound good?”

  “I guess,” Mia said. “Sebastian… Sab… what are you really doing here?”

  “I don’t know all of her story,” Sebastian said. “But that girl in there means a lot to me. She was my best friend for years. She just lost her mother. Nothing in my world is more important than making sure she’s able to get through this. She’s not alone.”

  “Wow,” Mia said. “Smooth. Smooth. Smooth.”

  I hurried back to the couch and sat in the same spot as a few minutes ago.

  Sebastian appeared again, with a glass of water.

  I looked up at him.

  He looked down at me.

  We didn’t say anything to each other.

  Any words spoken were either going to be a lie - or were going to confuse our already confused hearts.

  “This isn’t what I was expecting,” I said as I sat in the passenger seat of the car.

  “What’s that?” Sebastian asked.

  “The car. I thought it would be something crazy looking. Rock star style.”

  Sebastian laughed. “Well, this is a rental, Bree. I took what I could get.”

  “True.”

  “I have all my crazy looking, rock star style cars back in LA. Maybe someday you’ll get out there and visit.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Maybe.”

  I rattled off the remaining directions to my apartment.

  “So you ended up on the Southside of town,” he said.

  “Is that bad?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “Makes sense. Close to your job. Just funny that when we were younger we never went that way. Remember all the stories we were told?”

  “Yeah. So many stories. About bank robbers. People with vans offering candy. Biker gangs. All kinds of crazy stuff.”

  “Nobody wanted us going that far from home,” he said.

  “We did anyway,” I said and I looked at Sebastian.

  “Yeah, we did,” he said with a wink.

  He pulled into a parking spot outside the old building.

  “It’s not much, Sebastian,” I said.

  “I’m not here to compare our lives,” he said. He turned the car off. “Are you happy here?”

  The question was extremely loaded and like someone had hit me in the stomach.

  I didn’t respond right away.

  Sebastian didn’t wait for the answer either.

  He got out of the car and opened the back door.

  That’s when I realized he brought a bag of clothes. And a guitar.

  Of course he brought a guitar.

  Sebastian never went anywhere without a guitar when we were younger. He always loved playing drums more, but he always told me that he couldn’t carry around a drum set to play and impress girls with… so he taught himself guitar too.

  I found my keys to the apartment and realized my car…

  “What’s wrong?” Sebastian asked.

  “My car,” I said. “I think it’s back at the shop.”

  “I’ll drive you there in the morning,” he said. “Come on.”

  With his bag slung over his shoulder, he had a free hand, and he touched my lower back.

  My teeth chattered and I walked to the apartment.

  When I unlocked the door, I had a sudden feeling of terror.

  I had no clue what the place looked like.

  Was there food left out? Did I throw yesterday’s bra on the back of the couch? When was the last time I cleaned?

  As if I needed more emotion piled onto the day and night…

  I turned on the light and Sebastian walked right by me.

  Like he owned the place.

  He put his guitar and bag down on the dining room table.

  My eyes scanned around, looking at everything that was messy in the place.

  “Bree,” he said. He opened his arms. “I have to say it. I’m so fucking sorry. I can’t believe it. How fucking fragile time is for all of us. I’m just so sorry.”

  My knees felt very weak and I probably looked like a newborn giraffe as I trotted toward him.

  I fell into Sebastian’s arms as I broke down crying again.

  His strong arms wrapped around me and held me tight, keeping me from collapsing to the floor.

  I clutched at the back of his t-shirt.

  I started to shake.

  “How do I do this, Sebastian?” I asked.

  “What’s that?” he whispered.

  “All of this… there’s so much I have to do…”

  “Not tonight,” he said. “Tonight you’re going to get some sleep. Tomorrow you handle it then. One day at a time. One minute at a time. I know that’s not what you want to hear.”

  I cried some more.

  Each time I started to calm down, my heart commanded my brain to flash a memory of my mother. Or my heart told my brain that by morning things would be okay. I’d be able to call her. I’d talk to her.

  But that was never going to happen again.

  Ever.

  When I ran out of tears, I looked up at Sebastian.

  I was a mess.

  I felt ugly. Gross. Weak.

  Yet he smiled at me.

  “What can I do for you right now, Bree?”

  What you can do…

  “How about a drink?” I asked. “Mia refused to let me have one. She didn’t want me to get drunk and sick.”

  “She’s right,” Sebastian said. “You can’t get drunk and sick.”

  “I need a fucking drink,” I said.

  “I know.”

  “I’m going to my room,” I said. “Bring me a drink or go home on your private jet.”

  I walked away from Sebastian.

  Something had to take the pain away… even for a few minutes.

  I sat on the edge of my bed.

  Sebastian sat on the floor with his back to the nightstand.

  I told him to just sit next to me but he said he was comfortable on the floor.

  He found an old bottle of whiskey that I didn’t even know I had.

  It wasn’t my drink of choice. And each sip was more regrettable than the previous one. But… after a few drinks, I felt my body relaxing just a little. I felt myself getting tired. I was still emotional as hell, but there was the faint presence of comfort.

  That could have just been Sebastian himself though.

  “You’re really sleeping here?” I asked him.

  “I’ve slept in worse places in my life.”

  “Did you just call my apartment a dump?”

  “No,�
� he said. He winked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “This doesn’t meet your rock star standards? Let me see… you need, what, some drugs? Strippers? Well, a pole too, right? More to drink than some shitty whiskey. Tell me when to stop?”

  “You had me at strippers,” he said.

  I swung my left foot and kicked him. “You’re disgusting.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s why I said it.”

  “You’re blushing, Bree,” he said.

  “I’m embarrassed for you,” I said. “Do I have to call you Sab now too?”

  “Only if you want to,” he said. “How’s the drinks making you feel?”

  “Better than coffee did,” I said.

  “Good,” he said. “You should shut your eyes soon.”

  “I know,” I said. I took one more sip out of the whiskey bottle. My lips puckered and I shook my head. “Here, take this. I’m done.”

  Sebastian laughed. “You never could drink, Bree.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, come on. How many times did we sneak bottles into the woods together? You’d take these little baby sips. Or I’d have to buy you a bottle of soda so you could mix it together.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” I said.

  Sebastian took a big gulp of the whiskey.

  Sebastian.

  Sab. The drummer. The bad boy drummer.

  Filthy Line…

  A rock star…

  He put the cap on the bottle. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Actually… will you play me a song?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It’s been a long time.”

  “I guess that’s true,” he said. “I found my calling with drums finally.”

  “Please?” I asked with a smile, then batted my eyes at him.

  “Stop that,” he said.

  “What?” I asked. “This…”

  I stuck my bottom lip out.

  I pouted.

  Sebastian groaned. “You’re a pain in the ass again, Bree.”

  “And you love me too much to say no,” I said.

  Sebastian pulled himself to his feet and when he left the bedroom, he shut off the light.

  I climbed under the covers and waited.

  When I saw his figure appear, guitar in hand, I felt butterflies in my stomach.

  I shut my eyes.

  Sebastian started to play.

  It was soft, slow, sad, yet soothing.

  He started to whistle and then sang in this whispering voice that was just… melting…

  I took a deep breath and rolled to the other side of the bed.

  He kept playing.

  The whiskey told me to fall asleep.

  But my heart wanted me to cry one more time.

  5

  SAB

  “You know, it’s kind of hot when you play guitar.”

  “Of course it is,” I say. “Why do you think I play? I would love to just jam out on drums all the time, but I can’t carry a drum kit with me. When I do this, Bree, this rock star thing… I’m going to be the greatest drummer ever. And the best part is that I can just pick up a guitar and jam it too. People aren’t going to know what to do with themselves.”

  “Neither will the girls. They’ll be throwing themselves at you.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  Bree punches my chest. Then she puts her head back down on it. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to picture that.”

  “I do.”

  “Sebastian…”

  “Sorry. It’s just dreaming. You know? You have dreams too.”

  “Not like yours. I’m just happy to be here. I kind of think I want to run my own business. Like Mia’s mother does. It’s so cool, you know?”

  “Hell yeah. You’d be great at it. You have the personality. You’re pretty, you have a great smile, and you can be mean when you need to be.”

  She lifts her head and looks at me again. “You think I have a great smile?”

  “Killer smile, Bree. You know…” I laugh. “Never mind.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  She jumps up. “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  We’re in the bed of my pickup truck, hiding from the world.

  Bree is on her knees in front of me.

  Pushing at my chest.

  I keep laughing at her and she hates it.

  “Tell me right now,” she says.

  She gently slaps my face.

  “Look at you,” I say. “You’re so damn touchy, babe.”

  “Don’t babe me,” she says. “Spill it.”

  “Okay, fine. Sometimes when you smile, I look at you and it… you know… makes me smile. You look… pretty. Beautiful. Hot.”

  “Oh, wow,” she says.

  She blushes.

  That’s when time freezes between us.

  We just stare at each other.

  It’s an oh shit moment because I think we want to try kissing each other.

  But that will ruin a lot of things between us…

  I don’t think I give a damn though.

  So I lean closer to her.

  I pause.

  It’s her turn now.

  She leans closer to me.

  She pauses.

  It’s my turn again.

  So I lean…

  I felt a crushing blow to my stomach that woke me up so fast, my heart threatened to jump out of my chest.

  My eyes opened as I grabbed…

  A foot?

  Bree screamed as she fell forward and put her hands out to brace herself as she fell right toward the wall.

  I sat up and couldn’t stop the scene from happening.

  She turned and her shoulder hit the wall.

  Then she rolled with her back to the wall and pointed to me.

  “You slept right there?” she yelled.

  “Of course I did,” I said. “I told you I was sleeping right here.”

  “There’s a couch in the living room,” she yelled. “Why didn’t you sleep there?”

  “Because I said I was sleeping here,” I repeated.

  “The floor is uncomfortable,” she yelled.

  “I know that. I slept on it all night. Why are you yelling?”

  “I have to pee,” she announced.

  “Okay,” I said. “It’s your apartment. You know where the bathroom is, right?”

  “Funny,” she said.

  She hurried to the door and left the bedroom.

  I pulled myself up to the bed and sat there for a few seconds.

  My back and neck ached.

  It had been a while since I had slept on the floor of an apartment and woke up sore.

  I turned my head and looked at her pillow.

  The indentation where her head had been resting.

  I put my left hand to the spot and took a deep breath.

  I stretched my jaw, stood up and slowly moved out of the bedroom to the hallway.

  I needed to figure out what places were still open in town so I could get us something to eat and drink.

  As I snuck down the hallway, I heard a familiar sound.

  I stopped and turned.

  I grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

  The door was unlocked.

  I opened the door to the bathroom.

  Bree stood at the sink, crying.

  “Fuck, babe, come here,” I whispered as I touched her arm.

  She looked at me and cried even harder.

  I pulled her against my chest and hugged her.

  “It’s still real, Sebastian,” she said.

  “I know it is. Believe me, I know it is.”

  I looked at our reflection in the mirror as she cried.

  Me holding her.

  And there was nothing I could do to stop the pain.

  It felt backwards for some reason.

  I was the famous one. I was
the rock star. I had more money than I could ever spend in my lifetime. That meant I had more than enough money to take care of Bree.

  Yet money couldn’t bring her mother back. Money couldn’t take us back in time by one day and tell her mother not to drive.

  Time and fate won again…

  Just like with Mitchy.

  Goddammit… Mitchy…

  My focus had been on Bree and I had forgotten about Mitchy’s death.

  I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.

  As soon as I felt it, I became just a little bit shaky, I knew I was screwed.

  “Sebastian…”

  “No,” I growled.

  I squeezed her tighter.

  Bree forced her hands between us and pushed away.

  When she looked up at me, I looked up too.

  I felt the tears in my eyes and there was nothing I could do about it.

  “Look at me,” she said.

  “No,” I said again.

  Bree didn’t play games.

  To her, I wasn’t a rock star with power, money and fame.

  To her, I was Sebastian.

  She grabbed my face and dug her nails in until I looked down at her.

  When I did, a tear streamed from each eye down my cheeks.

  “Sebastian…”

  “Rough few days, babe,” I whispered. “Your mother. Before that, Mitchy…”

  “Oh, fuck,” she said. “I didn’t think about that. You lost one of your closest friends. I’m being so greedy right now.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am. I called you. I knew your friend had died. But I still called you. I dragged you into this. You didn’t have to come here, Sebastian. You belong with your band. You should be grieving there.”

  “I’m right where I want to be,” I said.

  We both stood there, tears gently running down our cheeks.

  “Sebastian…”

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  My hands grabbed the sides of her shirt and I pulled her close to me.

  After all the years of wondering, I finally made the move and kissed her.

  I pressed my lips to hers. My body to hers. My hands to her back.

  I walked forward, picked her up and walked her to the glass shower door.

  She hit it with a rattling thud.

  I broke the kiss.

  We stared at each other for a second.

  Then we kissed again.

  The second our tongues took a swipe at one another, we both broke the kiss, turning our heads.