A FILTHY Rock Star: a filthy line novel

by Kidman, Jaxson

  “I’m on my way up, babe,” Nash said.

  “I’m kidding!” I yelled.

  “Too late.”

  The call went dead.

  I growled.

  I was down to seconds to hurry and get dressed.

  Or…

  I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around my body.

  I used another to dry my hair and left that one on the bathroom floor.

  Nash was at my door a couple minutes later, pounding on it like a drunk moron.

  It made me grin.

  Was he even the slightest bit jealous that I could have been in the shower with someone else?

  I took my time to open the door and had no issues opening it all the way. Usually with Nash it was a few inches and that was it. But this time… I wanted him to see me in the towel. Knowing I was just in the shower. Naked. Wet.

  His dark eyes somehow looked darker as he stood there.

  Wearing the same clothes from just hours ago when I was on the tour bus.

  And he still smelled the same.

  Like sweat, cheap perfume and regrettable whiskey laced hotel sex.

  Now I was the one sort of burning with jealousy.

  “What do you want?” I asked him.

  Nash walked into my room.

  I stepped away and watched him rush into the bathroom. He looked at the second towel on the floor. He crouched and picked it up.

  He smelled it.

  My jaw dropped.

  So, the baddest rock star in the world was also possessive.

  How about that?

  Nash turned and looked at me. “This was for your hair, babe.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Is there a problem, Nash?”

  His lip curled. “Yeah, there is.”

  He walked toward me with a strut that made my heart miss a few beats. I caught myself stepping back, hitting the wall. My hand shot up and touched the top of the towel on my body. The only thing protecting me from being fully naked in front of Nash.

  He had no fear of putting an inch between us.

  Which made me regret my decision to mess with him.

  “I was calling to make sure you got back here okay,” he whispered. “And to let you know we’re eating breakfast and heading out early. Would hate for you to miss your ride and miss the show tonight.”

  “Thanks for the heads up,” I said.

  Nash moved toward the door, towel in hand.

  “I need that,” I said.

  “Nah, babe. This is mine now.”

  He smelled the towel again as he opened the door.

  I pushed from the wall and had a hundred questions racing through my head.

  I then made the bad mistake of moving toward the door.

  “Nash…”

  He turned and without hesitation, he reached for my towel.

  He pulled the loose knot at the top and I had no choice but to quickly turn as the towel fell.

  My back… my ass… all exposed for Nash to see.

  I hooked my left foot to the towel and threw it forward and let the door shut behind me.

  But not before I heard Nash whisper, “Damn, babe…”

  I locked the door even though Nash didn’t have a keycard to my room.

  I stood there naked.

  I was on his radar all the way now.

  Temptation. Untouchable. Losing his next deal.

  It was feeling like none of that mattered to him.

  Which scared the hell out of me.

  I wasn’t the kind of woman you threw your life into the air for.

  Trust me… I would know…

  * * *

  “Okay, listen for a second,” Nash’s voice echoed through the arena. He waved his hands. “Everyone just be quiet. Jimmy, I need you to kill the lights and give us something subtle. Calm. Quiet. Inviting. We’re going to do something different tonight.”

  I lifted my eyebrow.

  Every show I’d seen so far was the same setlist. Yeah, they played each song in its own way, but the setlist never changed.

  Until now apparently.

  “Jay, hook me up here,” Nash said.

  Jay strutted across the stage to cheers as he carried an acoustic guitar to Nash.

  Then Jay took off his electric guitar, trading it for an acoustic one too.

  Next thing I knew, the entire band was lined up at the front of the stage, each on a black barstool. Each with an acoustic guitar.

  “This was our first sad song to hit,” Nash said.

  My heart sank.

  No… nononononono…

  I shook my head as though Nash could see me.

  I’d show him both my boobs right there in front of everyone to not play…

  “This is called Left Away,” he said.

  The crowd roared to life.

  I put a hand to my mouth.

  Jay started to play.

  The first note of the first chord made my stomach drop.

  Of all the songs to play…

  Dex took over playing the main riff while Jay started the intro solo.

  And then came Reed with his guitar.

  Sab entered the song at the perfect time to add even more sound.

  And finally… Nash.

  Strumming so cool and calm, nodding as he scanned the crowd, getting ready to sing words that I never wanted to hear again.

  There she is, but she don’t know

  Here I am, walking to the show

  Her heart is breaking, because of me

  But these words aren’t hers, someday she’ll see

  I carry your picture, it’s by my side

  When this thing breaks, babe, I have to ride

  Have to chase this down, find my way

  Have to let you go, so hear me say

  It was never for us

  Because we know the truth

  I can never love anyone

  The way I love you

  Take my hand, you never have to feel…

  Left away…

  Oh, babe, left away…

  Nash leaned back from the mic as the crowd cheered.

  Jay played a little solo which sounded so amazing on the acoustic guitar.

  The five guitars together had such a deep and perfect sound.

  I never heard this song played this way.

  But I had heard this song so many times…

  Lonely nights, missing your touch

  Wishing you back, not saying much

  Holding you close, in another’s name

  Making promises like some cheap game

  I’m up on stage, hiding in these lights…

  The spotlights flashed bright for a second - enough that the crowd screamed louder than they had all night.

  Singing words that were meant to be right

  Have to find my way

  So hear me say…

  The band strummed the same chord over and over.

  “You sing it to me, babe,” Nash said into the mic.

  And that’s what they did.

  The entire arena singing back to him.

  It was never for us

  Because we know the truth

  I can never love anyone

  The way I love you

  Take my hand, you never have to feel…

  Left away…

  Oh, babe, left away…

  Nash then stood up as the band kept playing. He slid the acoustic around to his back and grabbed the mic with both hands. This was supposed to be the spot where another guitar solo happened.

  But not this version.

  Nash shut his eyes and screamed the words in a way I had never heard him do before.

  And his screaming was singing with a roughness that overpowered the four guitars and made everyone stop dead in their tracks.

  It was never for us

  Because we know the truth

  I can never love anyone

  The way I love you

  Take my hand, you never have to feel…

  Left away…<
br />
  Oh, babe, left away…

  When he got to left away, he let the note carry as he moved back from the mic and let Jay take over.

  Nash turned and moved the barstool out of the way and walked out of sight, the guitar hanging from his back.

  I touched my cheeks and let out a gasp.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  I was crying.

  Nash made me cry.

  And not in the way I would have thought.

  And it wasn’t just a tear or two.

  I was on the verge of a full blown ugly cry session.

  I turned and ran through the side stage darkness. Amazing how I had it all mastered by now. Running to the backstage area of a Filthy Line concert. Running for the backdoor. Knowing there would be a car waiting for me because Toby arranged for one each night.

  The tears kept flowing.

  And just as the door to the arena started to shut, Nash was back at the mic, singing the chorus again.

  It was never for us

  Because we know the truth

  I can never love anyone

  The way I love you

  Take my hand, you never have to feel…

  Left away…

  Oh, babe, left away…

  * * *

  I had my phone in my hands and stood on the balcony wondering who to text. Who to call. What to do. But there was nothing to do. Nobody to text or call. It really didn’t matter. That was the craziest part. It was just old stuff kicked up thanks to that stupid song. Eve would wring my neck. Zoe and the others wouldn’t get it.

  It shouldn’t have been a big deal at all. I just didn’t expect the band to play that song. And the way they played it…

  I hurried to the desk and took out a notebook and started to write.

  Everything poured from me. First was a raw review of the song. The show. The tour. And then came something like a confession. I changed a few names but just started to write. Letting it all out. Which felt good. I hadn’t had much time to write since I came on the road with Filthy Line. Somewhere in my heart, I thought I would have been huddled up in a hotel room writing all day and all night.

  But nope.

  I was immersed in the band.

  The life.

  The road.

  Everything.

  But it would end soon.

  No more cities and shows.

  I wrote until my hand throbbed in pain. Then I shut the notebook and packed it away. Most of what I wrote would never be used for anything. Much like the million other notebooks I had.

  I walked back toward the balcony when I heard the knock at the door.

  “No,” I whispered.

  “Liv, you in there?” Nash’s voice asked.

  I froze in place.

  No. Go the fuck away, Nash. This isn’t a game anymore. And if it is or was or whatever, you win then. Fine. Whatever. I don’t care.

  “Liv,” his voice said again.

  I remained still.

  This was one part of the game I could win.

  Because he…

  I heard the lock make a popping sound.

  I spun around and Nash was entering my room.

  He looked right at me. “Liar.”

  “How?”

  He showed me a keycard and smirked. “I get whatever I want, babe.”

  “Get out,” I said. “Right now. Get the fuck out.”

  I walked out onto the balcony, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to leave.

  Nash came out on the balcony and leaned over the railing next to me. He lit up a joint and my nose curled at the smell of the smoke.

  “So, you enjoy this?” I asked. “Drinking whiskey like it’s water. Shoving shit up your nose. Smoking that crap.”

  “Why were you crying, babe?”

  My entire body iced up.

  I didn’t answer him.

  Nash laughed and turned, leaning against the railing.

  We were pretty high up in the hotel and the drop made me nervous.

  He didn’t care.

  He didn’t care about anything.

  “You were crying at the show,” he said. “I can’t stop picturing it.”

  “You’re high right now, Nash. And drunk. And your breath probably smells like a woman.”

  He looked at me. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

  “Maybe it has to do with everything,” I said.

  “Does that mean you were crying over me?”

  “You wish.”

  “So, it was the song then,” Nash said.

  “Please, just go.”

  Nash leaned toward me and whispered, “Take my hand, you never have to feel… Left away… Oh, babe, left away…”

  Now any other person would lose their mind in a good way. I mean, the hottest and baddest lead singer ever… from Filthy Line… standing in my hotel room, on my balcony, whispering lyrics into my ear…

  I walked away.

  Nash came after me, grabbing at my arm.

  I spun around and swung my hand, slapping him across the face.

  The slap echoed through the room.

  My hand stung.

  Nash simply lifted the joint to his lips and took another deep hit.

  He exhaled the thick smoke into my hotel room and reached for my face.

  His thumb stroked my cheek and he winked.

  My heart felt ripped into two.

  On the verge of crying yet again.

  And Nash simply just walked out of the room.

  Leaving me with the smell of his smoke.

  The sound of his voice in my head.

  And I had no fucking clue what was going on with my heart.

  * * *

  I barely slept.

  I reminded myself there was one more show on the road and then we were going back. And then it would be over. There was a homecoming kind of show and then the band was staying put. I’d still have to spin any stories Nash decided to make but at least we would be home. There was a sense of comfort there. Protection in a way too.

  I splashed cold water on my face to wake myself up enough to walk and get coffee.

  When I opened my door, I stepped out and froze.

  There was Nash.

  Sleeping outside my room.

  Sitting in the hall, his back against the wall, head cocked to the side.

  Passed out cold.

  I swung my right foot and kicked him.

  “Wake up, Nash,” I yelled.

  He jolted to life and reached between his legs and grabbed his dick.

  He looked around the hallway, down at his hand, then up at me.

  “Nice,” I said. “Making sure it’s still there?”

  Nash yawned. “No, babe. I’m just used to someone being there. Have to be careful, you know?”

  “That disgusting. What are you doing here?”

  “Looked like a good place to sleep,” he said.

  Nash climbed to his feet, stretching his neck.

  I didn’t get how they did it. How they could play for hours on a stage then get destroyed with booze and drugs - and women - and then sleep it off so easily.

  Nash ran a hand through his hair and it was instant sex pouring from him.

  Fucking delicious and perfect as always.

  He lifted his arms over his head to stretch some more and his shirt pulled up.

  The V cut down into his jeans seemed totally unnecessary and unfair.

  “I’m going to get some coffee before we leave,” I said.

  I made it two steps and Nash had his hand on my stomach, stopping me.

  Without looking at me, he said, “I don’t like you crying, babe.”

  “Oh?”

  “Someone broke your heart,” he said.

  “None of your business, Nash.”

  “It was the boyfriend you mentioned before. Someone serious. Someone you were with for a long time. And it went to shit. And you listened to my song to get through it.”

  I karate chopped my ar
m to his arm to knock his hand away.

  I walked down the hallway and wiped the corner of my right eye.

  Fuck Dillion.

  Fuck Nash.

  Better yet…

  Fuck all men.

  9

  NASH

  It was the last show before heading home.

  That was the word they all used but I wasn’t sure what that meant anymore. The city was home, sure, but the house I had was just a house. Hell, there were people in the house more than me. People paid to take care of the palace on the hill overlooking a fucking rock star dream.

  The road served me better.

  I didn’t get into too much trouble on the road.

  There were some moments that got the best of me but usually it was when we were home. If I wasn’t in the studio or on stage then all bets were off.

  Even women couldn’t keep me down.

  Or maybe one could…

  I took my earpiece out and waved to the crowd, amazed that I was thinking these thoughts while twenty thousand people screamed because my band and I just played an amazing fucking show.

  We kept the setlist the same with the exception of Left Away. I took that out at the last second when I saw Liv arrive at the show. Wearing black jeans with a little rip on the right thigh. An ash gray t-shirt that had nothing on it which made it fucking impossible to not watch her chest dance a silent song that sung loud and fucking clear to my cock.

  I pictured her crying at the show.

  She didn’t know I saw her. She didn’t know that I kept a close eye on her from the corner of my eye most of the show.

  Something about that song really got to her.

  Instead of playing that, we did a stripped down acoustic version of You Only Cry. With no soundcheck on it. No practice either. The five of us were on stage with our guitars and I leaned toward Jay and told him what we were going to do.

  It took a real band to make that kind of change. And it took real musicians to pull it off flawlessly like the guys did. They were my brothers and most of the time took the ride with me, no matter where we went.

  We stood on stage and gave our last goodbyes to the fans and to the Line Whores with us. Security then helped them off the stage. With the exception of a few that Jay and Dex picked out for themselves.