But I was a mess.
Still.
As much as I’d been able to forgive him, I’d always felt dirty and conflicted over what happened between me and Seth. I’d cared about him, and if I’d been a better person, I thought, a stronger person, I would’ve been able to help him. Things wouldn’t have spiraled out of control. He wouldn’t have gotten so deep into drugs and he wouldn’t have been kicked out of the band.
As Brody’s words went around in my head, I realized how completely and mercilessly I’d blamed myself for Seth’s life falling apart, for the brutality of his addiction, for everything.
Why?
I asked myself that question as I cleaned up the glass Brody had broken against the wall. And the answer came to me, so clear.
Because it was easier for me to believe that everything was all my fault, that I had screwed everything up, than to accept that Seth had done bad things, made bad choices, that were beyond my control.
Just like my dad did.
The hard truth was that I’d wanted to help Seth. I’d wanted to save him and I’d failed, epically—and this struck right to the heart of my pain over what happened with my dad. I couldn’t save my dad, either. How could I? I was five years old when he killed himself.
But I had never gotten over it.
I was still paying for his mistakes. And now Brody was paying for them, too.
He was right about another thing: I was the one still holding the past between us, like a weapon. So maybe it was time I laid my weapons down.
For good.
Except I couldn’t really do that unless I faced the mess I’d made and, once and for all, cleaned it the fuck up.
But I still hadn’t done it. I still hadn’t talked to Brody. I’d kept putting it off, with one excuse or another. I’d been scared to face it head-on; to talk to him, and risk losing him. And now here I was, tiptoeing around him, terrified that everything between us would inevitably fall apart when he found out. I saw it coming. And I did feel powerless, like it was out of my control, when that wasn’t even true.
I’d asked Brody to fight for me. And I loved him. No; more than that.
Brody Mason was the love of my life.
So when was I going to fight for him?
Now. Right fucking now.
I found his phone, and I used it to text Seth while he was still in the shower.
Brody: Need to talk. Meet for coffee?
By the time I’d finished getting dressed, Seth had replied.
Seth: Yup-when & where?
I texted him where to meet, my fingers shaking just a little, then deleted the thread.
I left Brody a note to let him know I’d be back in a while, that I was going to pick up groceries. I told him I’d make us dinner tonight. I realized how it might seem when he got out of the shower to find me gone, so I drew some girlie little hearts on the note so he’d know I wasn’t running away.
Then I took his truck and headed downtown before I lost my nerve.
Seth was already there when I walked in. I saw him right away, and it struck me how odd it was to see him sitting there, in the middle of a busy cafe, by himself, with no one bothering him at all.
If any current member of Dirty tried to pull that, they’d be mobbed.
But Seth had been out of the band for six years. He was wearing a hat, and the stubble of his beard had grown back in, helping disguise the Seth Brothers the world used to know.
Since getting kicked out of Dirty, he hadn’t really done anything else, at least musically; I’d heard about him playing with some band here or there, but nothing that ever amounted to anything close to the fame he’d had a taste of with Dirty.
It was a tragedy, really.
A waste.
Those familiar green eyes locked on me as I crossed the room, and Seth sat up as I approached his table. His gaze moved between me and the door as I pulled out a chair, his expression guarded. “Brody coming?”
“No.” I sat down across from him, setting my purse on the table between us. “It’s just me.”
He nodded, absorbing that. “Can I buy you a coffee?”
I shook my head, then blurted out, “Why do you have to do this? Can’t you find another band?” He stared at me, and I knew I’d struck below the belt, but I didn’t come here to mince words. “Didn’t you already ruin enough?”
Okay. That was a low blow, too. Very low. But on the drive here, in the process of working up my nerve to confront him, I’d gotten a little angry.
“Me?” He looked honest-to-God confused. “I got kicked out of the band, Jessa. Or did you not notice that?”
“You got kicked out because you were a drug addict. That has nothing to do with me. For a long time, I thought it did. I was a kid. I was wrong.”
I waited for him to defend himself. To deny. To do whatever drug addicts did when they felt ashamed of their behavior.
He just nodded.
“You’re right. I was an addict. I’ll always be an addict. That isn’t your fault. But you chose to leave the band. I didn’t. I got kicked out. Now I’m clean, and it’s my chance to play with them again.” Seth held my eyes, his gaze steady, so different than it used to be. “I lost everything once and maybe you don’t think that has anything to do with you, but you never really did believe that I loved you.”
My gaze was steady, too. No matter what he said to me, I had words I needed to get out, and I wasn’t holding them back. “I believed you,” I said. “But I was in love with Brody. You knew that, too. I told you I was.”
He looked away, like he still didn’t want to hear it.
“You think you lost everything?” I leaned in over the table so he couldn’t possibly mishear me. “I loved Brody since the day I met him, Seth. I always have, and I always will. He didn’t have to do anything to deserve that love, and he sure as hell didn’t manipulate it out of me. You wanted me to love you but I couldn’t and you just couldn’t accept that. You were my friend, Seth, and you took advantage of how messed up I was.”
He was shaking his head as I spoke. “I didn’t mean—”
“No? Well, that whole experience fucked up everything for me. Worst of all, because of what happened, I ran away from everything that mattered. I hurt Brody, and now he’s defending you to me, fighting for you to have a chance with the band. He has no idea what happened between us, and if he knew, you know he’d never support your position with the band.”
“What the fuck do you want me to say, Jessa?” Anger flashed across Seth’s face, along with what looked like hurt. He looked scared, actually, and it made me kind of nauseous.
I’d never wanted to hurt him. It still made me feel like shit to do it.
I sat back in my chair and took a breath. I really didn’t come here to argue.
“You’ve already got everything,” he said. “You’ve got Brody, you’ve got your royalties from the songs, you’ve got your modeling career. You don’t need this. I do.” He was desperate. I could see that now. He wanted this, bad.
And as I calmed down off the adrenaline kick brought on by facing him, by saying a lot of hurtful, spiteful, arguably unfair things I’d never had the chance to say before, I didn’t want to be the one to take it away from him. I really, really didn’t.
But I also wanted this. My home. My family. My band.
Most of all, Brody.
And I just didn’t know how I could have them at the same time Seth did. I didn’t know if I could share them with someone who’d been such a huge part of all that pain I’d been through.
“I remember the day I met you, too, Seth,” I told him quietly. “You were a really nice boy. Quiet, kind of shy. So cool… even Zane wanted to be like you. Everyone liked you. They loved you, actually. I think they still do, despite all you’ve done to them, and to yourself, or they wouldn’t want you back in the band.” Then I gathered my nerve one last time and said the thing I’d really wanted to tell him all these years. “I’m just sorry that whatever it was inside yo
u that hurt so bad turned you into what you became.”
He said nothing in response.
As I got up to leave, I told him, “You need to come clean with the band, Seth. Tell them everything. I’ll give you a few hours, but you need to do it today. I’m not going to sleep one more night without getting things out in the open. If they still want you after that, so be it. I’ll just have to accept it.”
He looked up at me. “And if I don’t tell them shit?”
I softened a little, looking down at him. “I don’t think you understand. I’m telling them, too. I’m just giving you a chance to give them your side of it.”
When I pulled into Maggie’s driveway, she came outside to meet me, her face scrunched with concern. Maybe I’d scared her with my call for help.
“I fucked up, Maggie,” I’d told her, as soon as I got her on the phone.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… I’m in love with Brody.”
“In love?”
“Yeah. Like… hard. And for a long, long time.”
I’d left the cafe with a killer urge to run. I could easily envision myself driving straight to the airport, getting on a plane, and never coming back. It was itching under my skin, twitching at the back of my brain. Like I was jonesing for it. Escape.
Easy. So fucking easy.
And so fucking wrong.
I resisted that urge, because I knew it was wrong. My time for running was done. If I kept running, I was going to die running one day. It might not be tomorrow, but some day… I would die alone, still running.
So instead, I practically fell into Maggie’s arms. For someone so petite, Maggie gave a great hug.
When she drew back, she looked up into my eyes, my watery, tear-pricked eyes, and asked, “Are you okay?” Then she frowned before I could answer and added, “Do I need to kick his ass?”
“No.” I laughed and wiped the tears away before they fell. “But I love you for asking. I know you and Brody are tight. Thank you for not taking his side.”
“His side?” she said. “Oh, no. No, no. We girls stick together. And Brody and I are not that tight. Yes, we work together. And yes, perhaps he’s slightly more in touch with his emotions and has his bullshit slightly more under wraps than some men I know,” she said, no doubt thinking of her “husband” as she said it, “but he’s still a guy. And you’re you.” She made a sweeping gesture to indicate my entire being. “I’ve known you for years, Jessa Mayes, and you are lovely, inside and out. Brody may be hot and smart and generally level-headed, but he’s still a dude. And since he put that look on your face, I’m thinking he probably fucked up his share too.”
Then she pulled me inside her cozy little condo and put on a kettle for tea.
“What happened?” she asked as she looked over at me, cuddled into her beanbag chair with my knees pulled up under my chin.
“Nothing, really. That’s the problem. Brody told me he loved me when we were kids, and I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t really feel worthy of his love. So I ran away.”
“And then what?”
“And then I just kept running.”
She came to sit next to me, on the floor. “And now? What’s going on?”
I sighed. “I feel like my heart is going to explode every time we get naked together.” Maggie’s eyebrows went up. “Other times… it’s like we want to tear each other apart.”
Now her lips quirked as she fought off a smile. “Well, shit.”
I tried to smile a little too. “So maybe there’s hope?”
Maggie shook her head, considering. “I’ll be honest, hon… I’m not sure that means there’s hope, but it sure as hell isn’t a bad thing. I mean… if things are that intense between you, there’s a reason, right?”
“Yeah.” I hugged my knees tight as she went to pour the tea. “He says I broke his heart, Maggie. He thinks I didn’t want him, back then. That I ran away from him. But I totally didn’t.”
Maggie took that in. She came back over, handing me a mug and settling on the floor, cross-legged. “Well, it’s obvious you’re over the moon for him now. He’d have to be blind to miss it. Like hearts and rainbows shoot out of your eyes every time you say his name. It’s sickening, actually.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re all married and bored,” I teased.
“Oh, Christ. Don’t remind me of that bullshit. I haven’t had anything to drink yet today.”
“Sorry,” I said, blowing on my tea. “I don’t think being over the moon has ever been our problem, though.”
“Then what the hell is?”
I hesitated. “Just… stuff. Stuff we never talked about but we need to. And I don’t know how it’ll change things when we do.” I knew it would change things, but somewhere along the way I’d gone from believing he’d want nothing to do with me once I told him the truth, to thinking that maybe if I just fucked him enough he’d overlook it.
Stupid. Brody had never been that guy—the one who let his dick make his decisions. But I was getting desperate.
I sipped my mint tea, breathing in the fragrant steam, letting it calm my nerves. “Frankly, Maggie… I’m scared to fucking death.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I see that.” She looked momentarily contemplative, even sad. Then she said, “Fuck it. Life’s too short. You need to talk to him. Talk to him about everything, even the shit you’re most scared to. Especially that shit. You talk to him and he’s not cool with it, nothing changes. You go about your separate lives and he still holds a grudge or whatever the fuck he feels he needs to do in that man-brain of his. On the other hand, you talk to him and he’s understanding, maybe you talk it through. Either way you win, because you faced your demons head on, and that takes the kind of courage you can’t turn back from.”
“Yeah. You’re right,” I said. “I know it. I just haven’t found the courage. That’s all it is. I’m a huge coward.”
Maggie sipped her tea in silence for a minute.
“You know, Jessa… Brody’s been acting like a grumpy-ass, grunting bear since you came back,” she said. “I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve also never seen him serious about anyone else. He’s kind of a serial monogamist; always has some girlfriend around, but they never last long, and he never seems that into them. Like he smiles more when he’s with the guys, you know? It’s like he’s the kind of guy who wants to be in love, but he never finds anyone to feel that way about. That’s gotta be by choice. It’s not like he hasn’t met a crapload of available women since you’ve been gone. On the road, they’re like horny bees swarming on honey, on all the guys—Brody included.”
“Maybe you just don’t know?” I said, not loving that image; really, it was unlikely that Maggie knew everything about Brody’s love life, right?
Maggie fixed her no-bullshit gray eyes on me when she said, “Maybe he’s waiting for you, Jessa.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jessa
In the end, I took Maggie’s advice.
It had been hours, anyway, since I left Seth in that cafe. The sun had gone down. And I hadn’t heard a word from anyone.
If Seth had told the band right away, like I advised him to, I would’ve heard something by now.
“Nothing?” I asked Maggie for like the dozenth time as we both checked our phones.
She shook her head. “Sorry, hon.”
Moments later, Brody knocked on the door. I’d messaged to let him know where I was. I’d also apologized for getting caught up and missing dinner. He’d come straight over like I’d asked him to, and when Maggie let him in his eyes cut straight to me where I was sitting on the couch.
“Were you leaving?” he demanded as he came thundering over. His face looked slightly windburned from racing here on his bike, and he looked off-put… frazzled. I’d worried him again.
Guess my little note with all the hearts didn’t cut it.
“I wasn’t—”
“You’re not leaving.”
�
��No,” I said calmly. “I wasn’t leaving.”
“You want me to fight for you?” His voice was rising, like I hadn’t even spoken. “This is me, fighting. You are not fucking leaving.”
Shit. He was really wound up, and that stupid inability to get my thoughts out of my mouth whenever he was around, and pissed at me, kicked in, and I started struggling to find the words to defend myself—when Maggie cut right in.
“Just shut up and listen,” she said. “I’ll put her in my car and drive her to the airport myself if you wanna keep acting like a crazy deranged bear with a firecracker up its ass.”
That got Brody’s attention. I kind of doubted Maggie laid into him like that very often. Or ever.
He stood back, clawed a hand through his hair and took a breath. Then he shot Maggie, who was still hovering between us, a dark look.
“I’ll just… head out for a while. Take your time.” She threw me a look and pointed at her phone, which I took to mean, Message me if you need that ride to the airport.
Then she vanished.
Brody shed his jacket, rubbed a hand over his face and sat next to me on the couch.
“We need to talk,” I said softly.
“Yeah,” he said, blue eyes locking onto mine. He took hold of my hand and held it tight against his thigh. “So, talk.”
I talked.
I told him everything.
And I started at the beginning.
I told him about how it felt after my mom died. I told him about the crushing weight of the loss of her, after already losing my dad. The dark despair and powerlessness I’d felt.
I told him how it felt to be the kid sister, the good girl, always following everyone else’s rules, doing my best to keep everyone smiling while I felt like I was dying inside.
I told him how it felt to be cared for and protected by my brother, and Jude, and Zane, and by all my brother’s friends growing up. By him; Brody.
Dirty Like Brody: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 2) Page 30