As bad as that sounded.
Whatever.
It was about connection. He and I connected.
Not to mention we had known each other for so long and he was always the one to protect me.
It just felt good.
He wasn’t the same Sebastian as all those years ago. I wasn’t the same Bree. But Sebastian was rich and famous. He was powerful. He was intense. Sexy? Sure. I’d give him that. But then he always was. And it wasn’t about that.
I wandered through the apartment, telling myself I could be on my own.
I could make it all work.
I looked at the letter from my mother on the table and shook my head.
Instead of reading it, I got another cup of coffee and went back into my bedroom.
When I sat down on the bed, I looked at the spot where Sebastian had slept.
Again… comfort.
That’s what it always was for us. Just comfort…
I want him to put his arm around me. I want him to hold me. Is that such a bad thing? We both know we’re friends. He’s had girlfriends. I’ve had a boyfriend or two. It’s really not that big of a deal.
A little chill in the air tickles my arms and I shiver.
“Hey, are you cold?” Sebastian asks.
“A little,” I say.
“I have some hoodies in the backseat,” he says. “Want me to go get you one?”
“No,” I say. “You can just put your arm around me.”
“Of course,” he says.
Sebastian wraps his arm around me and pulls me close to him.
There’s an odd second between us where time feels like it’s stopped.
Then he turns a little.
“Does my armpit smell?” he asks.
He shoves my nose into his armpit and I throw an elbow to his ribs.
He groans as he laughs.
“Gross jerk,” I say.
He keeps laughing. “Sorry, babe. I had to. I won’t do that again.”
“Yes, you will,” I say.
Sebastian puts his arm around me again and I put my head to his shoulder.
He hugs me.
We sit in silence.
I feel myself ready to fall asleep.
I’m lucky to have such a good friend like Sebastian.
I jumped up from the bed as the memories tried to flood my mind.
Not that they were bad memories, it was just…
At least it was better than grieving my mother’s death, right?
Then I had two sets of memories in my head.
I didn’t even take a sip of the coffee as I walked back to the kitchen.
I put the coffee down and texted Mia.
As I stared at the phone, I felt the emotion trying to wash over me.
She didn’t take long to reply.
On my way.
Mia really was a good friend.
I hadn’t even thought about the shop until she mentioned what was going on there.
It was the first time in forever I hadn’t been thinking about work.
She left Jess in charge but obviously had her phone at hand in case something happened.
I felt guilty for bothering her.
Part of me told myself I should have just asked Sebastian to stay another day.
But he couldn’t.
He was in his own world.
His rock star life. The death of a band member.
The band was trending online because of that too.
Waiting for Mia, I did a little searching and it wasn’t hard to find some really harsh articles written about Mitchy. I never met him. But the way he was portrayed, he was a really bad drug addict. So many articles were written as though Mitchy deserved to die.
It was heartbreaking.
“You never opened the letter,” Mia said.
“Not yet,” I said.
“Bree…”
“I know,” I said. “I will. Later. I still have to wrap my mind around picking her up. They’re going to hand me…”
Mia nodded and rubbed my arm. “I know.”
“It’s just a lot,” I said. “Sorry about the shop today. I wasn’t even-”
“No need to be sorry,” Mia said. “Take some time to yourself. The shop will be fine.”
“I don’t want to just wander around here for days. I don’t want any more flowers or fruit. Speaking of which… where’s the chocolate? Where’s the booze? I don’t want fruit.”
Mia laughed. “We’ll get you some chocolate and booze later.”
“Is everyone at the shop talking about it?” I asked.
“Of course they are,” Mia said. “Customers too.”
“I think it’s going to be in the newspaper tomorrow,” I said.
“Everyone in town already knows,” Mia said.
“I have to face all of that too,” I said.
“Nothing to face, Bree.”
“Just the same conversation over and over.”
“Which is people telling you how much they cared about her.”
“Mia. It’s the same hit to the heart over and over.”
“I know. I’m just trying to be supportive.”
“And the letter… knowing my mother, it’s something dumb. Like instructions on how to cook her famous lasagna.”
“Oh, that’s good stuff,” Mia said.
“You’re not helping,” I said.
“You’re kind of smiling. It’s the least I can do since Sebastian left.”
She winked.
I felt myself on the verge of blushing.
I walked away.
“I’m just teasing,” she called out.
I spun around. “You know how famous he is? He texted someone to send a plane here. Like a text message. Just… boom.”
“Yeah, I believe it.”
“I’m just… I see him as Sebastian still. My friend from high school. The cool, tough guy who played guitar and drums. Now he’s just…”
“Gorgeous and rich?” Mia asked.
“You think he’s gorgeous?”
“Does that bother you?”
“No.” I said.
It bothered me a little, but shh…
“Let me put it this way,” Mia said. “The hubby and I have an agreement. He has a list of actresses and I have a list of musicians. If we ever have the chance to hook up with one, it’s allowed. Sab is way up on my list for sure.”
“That I didn’t need to hear,” I said.
Mia laughed. “You brought it up.”
“I didn’t bring up his looks,” I said. “I was just making the point that I’m amazed he could do what he did for me. I panicked and called him. And he hurried to get on a plane and fly here. There are no big airports around here, Mia. That meant he flew into that little one…”
“Rich and famous,” Mia whispered.
“I. Know. That. I’m trying to process it. When he was in my bed last night, he-”
“Back up,” Mia said. “Sebastian was in your bed last night?”
“Yeah. He slept next to me.”
“In bed. With you.”
“Yes.”
“The drummer from Filthy Line was in your bed. And nothing happened?”
“That’s not how I see it,” I said. “It was my friend. Sebastian. Just like we used to do before.”
“I don’t know, Bree. I think you missed out on something special.”
“What? A one-night stand with him?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“With the both of us grieving. Sad. Confused. Because that wouldn’t cause any problems.”
“If you’re that close as friends, why not?” she asked.
“Okay, I can’t do this right now,” I said. “Plus, he’s gone. That’s it. He’s flying back to Los Angeles to handle the death of his band member. I have to keep facing my mother’s death. I just… I need a shower. Then we can leave. Okay?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Mia said. “Do you mind if I take a minute to myself and think
about Sab?”
She winked.
I didn’t respond.
She knew that made me jealous.
And she didn’t say it to be mean to me.
She said it to prove that it made me jealous.
Leaving me with the obvious question…
Why did it make me jealous to think of Sebastian with another woman?
The day passed by in a blur.
A slow blur even though time moved quickly.
It was just the small moments that hurt so bad.
I ran into two dozen people who wanted to express their condolences to me about my mother.
As it kept happening, I began to realize why people had services for loved ones they’d lost.
It would have been easier to just get it all over with in one shot.
It was too late for that.
The memorial was being set up.
And everything else was done.
Done… as in she was now contained in a small box.
That was it.
That was all I had of her.
I had a vivid memory as Jerry handed me the box of my mother’s ashes telling me that nobody needed to be afraid of dying. Because when we died, we became birds. And we could fly all around the world, for free, and do whatever we wanted.
I was pretty sure my mother wasn’t a bird, but then again… who knew what happened…
Jerry started to talk about urns and I let Mia take over the conversation.
I lost track of time. Of myself. Of everything.
Mia kind of guided me around.
Half the people I talked to about my mother, I didn’t remember what I said or did. All I could think about was that it was really the end for her. I debated on what to do with her ashes. Where to spread them, if anywhere at all. I thought about my birthday. Her birthday. About the holidays. I was about to embark on an entire year of firsts without her around. There was no question that my mother was loved. And that she was going to be missed.
I felt like screaming DUH! at everyone who said it.
By the time I got back to the apartment, I was angry.
There were more flowers outside the apartment door and I stomped on them.
“What are you doing?” Mia yelled at me.
“I can’t take anymore,” I said as my voice cracked.
Mia opened the door for me and I carried what was left of my mother into the apartment. I put the box on the dining room table behind the flowers.
Mia brought the fresh flowers to the table.
“I got you some chocolate and booze,” she said.
“You did what?” I asked.
“That’s what you wanted,” she said. “Right?”
“Well… yeah…”
“Stay right here,” she said. “It’s in the car. What kind of friend am I if I didn’t know what you really want?”
Mia left the apartment and I looked at the letter again.
Tonight was the night I was going to open it.
“I’m going to open it,” I said to Mia.
“You should,” she said.
“Are you okay staying here? This isn’t going to cause any problems?”
“No,” she said. “My marriage is just fine, Bree. I’m helping a friend. Stop making up problems when they’re not there.”
“I know,” I said. “I just feel like a burden.”
“So what if you are?” Mia asked. “You’re allowed to be right now. I’m not going anywhere tonight. I’m drunk.” She snorted. “This is like a night out for me.”
“Some night out,” I said.
“Stop it,” she said. “Open the letter. Get it over with.”
I sighed and slid my finger along the flap and tore it open.
It was a single sheet of paper.
Handwritten from my mother.
The sight of her writing brought tears to my eyes.
I shouldn’t have been reading it then.
Chocolate, booze… and emotions…
I started to read the letter, blinking through the tears, and couldn’t believe what I was reading.
My father passed away when I was only two.
I honestly had no memories of him.
My mother told me he died of a heart attack.
She never cried about his death. She only talked about how good of a man he was. And a father to me.
She wrote about him in the letter.
Because there was a secret she had to tell me.
A secret she felt safe confessing only after she was gone.
I folded the letter after reading it and I stared at Mia.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I was adopted.”
“What?”
“That’s what the letter says. I was adopted. They couldn’t have a baby so they adopted me. I was a year old when they adopted me. Then a year later my father died. So my mother raised me alone. She never told me…”
My head swirled.
I couldn’t believe I was calm.
I handed Mia the letter.
As she read it, I looked out the living room window.
Adopted.
I wasn’t even sure what to think or feel.
So my entire life my mother loved me, raised me, and that was all I knew.
Now after her death, I’m allowed to read a letter…
“Bree,” Mia said. “This is crazy.”
“Right?” I asked.
“Why are you so calm?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “Am I having a nervous breakdown?”
“I don’t know if you are, but I feel like I am,” Mia said.
My teeth began to chatter.
Mia tossed the letter aside, moved toward me and hugged me.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she said. “Sorry? I’m happy for you? I don’t know, Bree. You were raised by a strong, amazing woman. I think that’s all that matters.”
“Then why even tell me?” I asked.
“Maybe for medical reasons,” Bree said. “Maybe she figured if something happened and she was alive, she could tell the doctors. But now… she can’t. Or maybe she wants you to find your birth parents.”
At the bottom of the letter my mother wrote down the names of my birth parents.
“Or…” Mia broke the hug. “Maybe she’s giving you another chance at having parents. Right?”
“They could be dead too,” I said. “Is that what I want? To track down people who gave me up for adoption?”
Mia shook her head. “I don’t know what to say or do right now.”
I looked at the letter on the floor.
I looked at Mia.
I took a deep breath.
“I think we should just keep drinking.”
A few hours later, Mia was asleep on the couch.
With her drunk snoring that always made me shake my head.
The louder she snored, the drunker she was.
Yet if she got sick while drinking, she would sleep silently.
I stumbled around the apartment, the letter in my hand.
My entire life had been knocked over in a second.
My mother died in a car accident. Her ashes were in a box on my dining room table. There were flowers and slowly rotting fruit on the table too. I had a letter left to me that confessed probably the biggest secret of my mother’s life.
I was adopted.
I wasn’t actually her daughter. Or at least not by blood.
Did that even matter?
I had no clue.
I had questions that would never get answered.
The apartment felt small.
It was crammed. Claustrophobic. I felt like I couldn’t take a deep breath.
I looked at the couch and knew I could wake Mia up.
It was just a mild panic attack.
Everything hitting me at once.
The chocolate in my stomach not sitting well. The booze racing through my head, mixing with the thoughts, memories, and realities, making me feel sick
.
I put the letter on the table.
I went into the kitchen and got a drink of water.
That did nothing.
You’re adopted. Your mother is dead. You have to carry that secret alone now. Everyone wants to talk to you about your mother. But there’s another mother out there. Maybe. She could be dead too.
I needed to get away.
Out of the apartment.
Out of town.
I needed to leave…
I scrambled to find my phone.
It was after one in the morning.
I was drunk.
I looked at Sebastian’s name on the screen.
Can I come to LA to be with you?
9
SAB
The women were beautiful.
They were all so damn beautiful.
Strutting around half naked.
Some topless.
Some completely naked.
I sat there with a glass of whiskey in one hand and nothing in my other hand.
I felt like something had slipped through my grip.
Nash elbowed me. “We have to leave, Sab.”
“I know,” I said as I looked around. “I can’t believe I didn’t make a new friend.”
“You’re quiet tonight,” he said. “And by me being here, Liv might kill me.”
“You’re just looking. She’s cool with it. Actually… they all are.”
Nash looked at me and nodded.
“What the hell is this? Are you getting soft?”
“No,” I said. “I’m just saying, it’s nice how it all worked out. Liv, Candice, Abby, and Wren. You know? I mean, Wren is still figuring it out. But you know Jay. He’ll protect her with his life. Which is beyond me to think about.”
Nash grinned. “Having a little regret there, Sab?”
“About what?”
“Your little visit,” Nash said. “I’m guessing you didn’t throw her to the bed and show her what a rock star you’ve become?”
“No,” I said. “Her mother just died. We were both feeling it. We’re friends.”
“Friends,” Nash said. “All these topless women around you and you’re thinking of your friend. Come on, let’s get out of here. The guys are waiting for us.”
I stood up just as a stunning beauty walked by me.
She looked back and bit her lip, winking at me.
Topless in a floss-thin G-string.
Her ass cheeks looked so firm and huggable…
A FILTHY Friend (Filthy Line Book 5) Page 7
