Heartbreaker: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance Read online

  19. (Sebastian)

  Being thoroughly exhausted, Bella and I were preparing to go to bed. She was brushing her teeth next to me in the bathroom, making silly faces in the mirror and laughing with a mouth full of frothy toothpaste when I tickled her in retaliation.

  “I do think I like this game,” I said after finishing, resting my chin on top of her hair. “I hope we can play it for a little while longer.”

  “As long as you need to keep playing, I’ll be here,” she replied, turning around with a cheeky smile to land a kiss on my lips.

  I wrapped my arms around her slender waist, wondering if the two of us had the energy for another round. She looked so sexy in one of my button-downs, I thought I might be able to. I was just starting to kiss her lips again, tasting the minty-ness of the toothpaste, contemplating the benefits of making love again versus just cuddling in bed and going to sleep, when my phone rang. At first I ignored it, apologizing to Bella with another kiss and telling her not to worry about it.

  But then it rang again, seeming to be more insistent this time, and I decided it would be better to see who it was, at least so I could tell them to stop calling me at such an unholy hour of the night.

  When I picked it up, the contact name was not what I expected, and I answered immediately.

  “Rebecca, are you alright?”

  Bella looked at me curiously, mouthing, Is this the girl? and raising her eyebrows in question.

  I shook my head, trying to concentrate on what my stepsister was saying and on the faint sounds of sobbing in the background.

  “I’m okay. It’s Lillian. I don’t know what to do—some things happened, and she’s—”

  “I’ll be right over,” I said, cutting her off.

  I figured it was better to see the situation for myself—and as soon as possible, by the sound of it—than to have Rebecca try to explain what was clearly confusing even her.

  “Thank you,” Rebecca said, and then hung up.

  Setting my phone down, I turned to Bella with an apology on my lips, but she just shook her head.

  “It sounds serious.”

  “I’m sorry, Bella, I am. I would have loved nothing more than to fall asleep next to you, but something urgent came up.”

  She gave me a little smile, one that said she thought my earlier statement was a lie, but she didn’t care anyway.

  “Of course; there are always other nights.”

  It didn’t sound like her, didn’t sound like the Bella I had just been fooling around with, but I guess that that was just because she was being serious now, and I wasn’t quite used to it yet.

  “Do you mind if I call you an Uber? I want to get over there as soon as possible.”

  “That’s fine.” She kissed me gently on the cheek before heading back out to the living room. “I’ll gather my things; you be on your way.”

  “Thank you.” I grabbed his keys and wallet, summoning an Uber for Bella while I was in the elevator down to the parking garage and texting her the information.

  My mind ran through all the possibilities of what could be going on with Lillian.

  Had she injured herself? Had something happened with her family? With one of her friends? Was the stress of her job getting to her? Whatever it was, I wanted to protect her. I wanted to take her far away from whatever was happening and make her feel safe.

  As Lillian’s friend, I just wanted the best for her. The drive felt long, longer than what I wanted it to be. I couldn’t get there fast enough, couldn’t make the distance between us short enough. I just wanted to be there to comfort her, like we were teens again and she was freaking out over a bad grade. I wanted to put my arms around her and kiss the top of her head and let her know that I was going to be there for her as a friend, no matter what.

  Finally, I arrived. I hurried to find parking, not caring that my car maybe wasn’t parked carefully, just wanting to be there, rushing up the stairs, feeling my heart pounding in my chest as the wind whistled around me. I knocked on the door, and the moments felt agonizing. And there was Rebecca opening the door, looking distraught.

  “You should come inside,” she said, and I did.

  20. (Lillian)

  I didn’t know that Rebecca called Sebastian; I was too busy trying to calm myself down and get my breathing stabilized even to notice. It took me a moment when he walked into the room, and then suddenly everything was flashing back again.

  I remembered those first months after he had left and things had gotten bad, desperately wanting him to be there to help me through it, realizing that he might never be again. And now here he was, in a time where things were going wrong again, standing before me, arms open, face clearly saying that he was there, and he wasn’t leaving.

  I rushed to him, throwing my arms around his waist, squeezing tightly as I buried my face against his shirt. I realized, in the back of my mind, that he was wearing pajamas, and had probably rushed over as soon as he heard something was wrong. The thought was comforting, and I knew then that I was never going to lose my best friend again.

  He held me close, a little awkwardly at first, and then tighter, crushing me to his chest so that I could hear his heartbeat. I could feel my breathing start to calm, and the wild thoughts I was having left me as the sound of Sebastian filled my ears. His presence seemed to chase away anything else that might want to fill my mind and cause me any harm.

  I had forgotten how calming it was to be held by him, to have him there when I was struggling. It wasn’t a dominating presence either, like the rest of him usually was. It was more—I didn’t quite know how to put it into words—like he was existing there and also letting me exist. He stood as a rock for my thoughts, feelings, and everything else I was going through, to just be there for me as I worked through my problems on my own.

  I knew it wasn’t something that came naturally to him. When we were teenagers and I had first been working through the emotional strife that came with puberty, and high school, he had always wanted to attack the threat instead.

  It had been overwhelming, him trying to protect me all the time from everything, trying to solve everything the moment I told him something was wrong. But I still loved talking to him, and he understood that sometimes all I wanted was for someone to listen. Sometimes all I wanted was the knowledge that someone was standing there with me in solidarity and that I wasn’t alone. And here he was, in the moment that I maybe needed him most, being that pillar of generosity again, despite everything.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, not knowing if Sebastian would hear me.

  But he did. He gently stroked my head and said, “Of course. I’m here for you, any time.” He arched his head slightly to turn to Rebecca, “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Do you want me to explain or would you like to do it?” Rebecca asked, and I just shook my head.

  “I think it’s better if you do it for now.”

  “Of course. Let’s go sit down.” The three of us headed over to the couch, where a concerned Coby looked up and jumped down to move out of the way.

  I sat in between them—my roommate and my old friend—feeling calmer now. I knew I could handle things on my own, but it was nice to have people who cared about me be there, reminding me that I was not alone. Rebecca explained things as concisely as she could, occasionally glancing at me to make sure that she was getting it right. Sebastian nodded as he listened, not interrupting, only making Rebecca pause once to clarify something.

  “I see,” he said when Rebecca had finished telling him what was wrong. “That’s really terrible, Lillian. I’m so sorry that ever happened.”

  Rebecca nodded in agreement. “He’s a complete jerk and doesn’t deserve your tears.”

  I took a shuddering breath. “That’s…not the main reason I was crying.”

  “What do you mean,” Sebastian asked.

  “I mean, yes, I was crying because Ash hurt me, and that’s horrible, and he did it in a terribly immature way, but it’s other things
too. There’s something I’ve never told either of you before.” I didn’t know if I really wanted to tell them, or if it was even the best choice, but it was too late to turn back now.

  I just hoped Sebastian wouldn’t feel guilty.

  “I…you wanted to know why I stopped playing the piano, Sebastian,” I said, turning towards him.

  “You don’t have to tell me—”

  “I think it’ll help. And…I need to get it off my chest. I told Ash before he left, and he can’t be the only one to know. It feels wrong.” And so, I entrusted them with that part of myself that I did my best to keep locked away.

  It wasn’t something I liked to share, ever. It made people feel sorry for me, pity me, and what had happened. But even if it was still affecting me, still made me feel guilty to this day, that wasn’t the way I saw things.

  It wasn’t a story meant for pity. It was something that had happened to me. It was an event, like any other, and it affected me and the way I perceived the world, like any other event might. It’s just that this one came with more emotional weight than other events.

  I could see the progression of emotions on Sebastian’s face as he listened. It was telling—because Sebastian wasn’t a person to show what he felt on the outside. At first, it was guilt. Sadness. Horror. Righteous fury. And finally, a calm as I finished, the words coming much easier off my lips than they had with Ash.

  I went through the part of the story of my mom passing away, of my father getting into a car accident. Of the thoughts and feelings I was going through. Of the fact that at my lowest low, my best friend, Sebastian, moved away, leaving me to my own devices. I finished with the last sentence that came pouring out from my heart involuntarily like a wave of emotions unable to stop even through a brick wall, “Ultimately, I stopped playing piano because you moved away.”

  Sebastian sat in awe of my words, frozen, without an expression or anything to say. He knew I was sitting in my down self-defeated doubt.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said, pulling me to him in a way that was more platonic than anything else. “I should have been there.”

  “Please don’t say that.” I pulled away from him slightly, holding eye contact so that he could see the intensity of my words. “There was no way for you to know, no way for you to be there.”

  Sebastian let out a frustrated sigh, raking his hands through his hair, leaving it messy and tousled. “You’re right, but still...”

  At this point, I had so many questions running through my mind. Why? Why bring it up right now? And right after my current squeeze had left me. There was a mixture of emotions; I wasn’t sure what to feel or what to think. Maybe to lighten the mood, I felt the need to change the subject, not wanting to press the answer I just exposed any further. Wanting to move on…now that I was able to let go of the past haunting my present moment.

  Recognizing the need for another distraction almost instantly, Rebecca turned to her stepbrother with a large grin on her face.

  “Hey, Mr. Serious Lawyer, fancy watching some soap operas with us?” She waggled her eyebrows as Sebastian suppressed a snort.

  “I thought you said you couldn’t watch that kind of stuff with me since I commentate too much.”

  “Nah, it’ll be okay. I’m sure Lillian will put you in your place if you do.”

  Sebastian gave me a little side-glance as if sizing me up. “Are you sure she can do that?”

  “I mean, you’re not going to say no to her.”

  We all laughed, and Sebastian replied. “That much is true. Now, which soap opera are we watching?”

  21. (Sebastian)

  I had fallen asleep on the couch, after a marathon of way too many episodes of a dramatic Spanish novella. The three of us had watched into the early morning before Lillian finally dropped off to sleep, and Rebecca and I carried her up to her bedroom before we collapsed ourselves.

  It was afternoon when I awoke, blinking back sunlight with more than a little annoyance. I supposed it was time that I got up, though it would be a wonder if I managed to get my sleep schedule back on track anytime soon.

  I groaned, sitting up and stretching my arms above my head, feeling the tightness in my back and chest ease. My stomach growled, and I grimaced. Oh, I was definitely hungry. And I supposed that Rebecca and Lillian would be as well when they finally got up. With a sense that I was yet again fulfilling the role of an older brother, I stood up and headed over to the kitchen, pulling down ingredients for pancakes from the cabinets.

  I had fond memories of making pancakes with my parents—chocolate chip ones on every first day of the school year. It was something that I carried with me into adulthood, a relic of my childhood. On the first morning of big cases, I would make myself chocolate chip pancakes with strawberry jam and real maple syrup, banking on the nostalgia to give me the energy to show up.

  Rebecca and Lillian didn’t have any chocolate chips, but they did have blueberries and strawberries, and so I made do with adding bite-sized chunks of fruit to the batter. As the smell of fresh pancakes filled the apartment, the two girls came stumbling into the kitchen, one after the other, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, both looking extremely hungry.

  “Thank you!” Rebecca cried when she saw what I was doing, throwing her arms around my waist in a tight hug.

  The two of us had never had a childhood together, having grown up before my parents had gotten divorced, but sometimes I felt like we did, like there was some lost past where the two of us had grown up as bickering siblings, wading through growing up together.

  I supposed I was blessed to have that bond with her now, especially since there wasn’t any real reason for us to interact. If we wanted to, we could have just ignored each other and gone on living our lives, but here we were instead, in the kitchen of the apartment I was helping her finance while she focused on her ever-changing dream. One day it was to become a writer, the next to sell handmade perfumes on Etsy or some other online marketplace. Who knew what scheme she would cook up next?

  “That smells delicious,” Lillian said, seating herself on one of the stools in front of the small kitchen counter.

  “Of course, it is me cooking, after all,” I said with a smile and a wink. “What else would you expect.”

  “I don’t know, maybe for you not to be self-righteous about it?” Rebecca teased, stealing a lick of batter from the bowl. “Or maybe to not add so much sugar,” she added with a grin, licking the rest of the batter from her finger. “This is way too sweet to be healthy.”

  “I don’t know about you, but post-novella, I need to drown my sorrows in sugar,” I quipped back, pouring another batch of pancakes onto the pan.

  “Cheers to that,” Lillian said, standing and walking to the fridge to pour herself a glass of orange juice. “Want something to drink?”

  “Orange juice would be lovely,” I replied at the same time that Rebecca said, “Juice, please!”

  “Two orange juices it is,” Lillian said, adding another two glasses to the counter.

  As she sat down, I turned to her, suddenly looking very serious. “Lillian, there’s been something I’ve wanted to talk to you about for a while now, but I want you to let me know if this isn’t a good time. I know you’re going through some stuff, and I wouldn’t ever want to take advantage of that.”

  “What is it?” she asked, feeling confused for a moment.

  “I wanted to apologize for how I handled things. I…I was not who I wanted to be with you. I didn’t treat you the way I should have, and I will forever regret that. I’m sorry for making you feel like I was trying to buy your affections, for being so over-bearing…I knew that probably wasn’t what you wanted, but I did it anyway because that was the only way I knew how to handle a relationship.”

  “Maybe it’s not the right time right now…” Lillian replied, admittedly.

  “I know that you don’t love me right now and that you’re dealing with heartbreak, and I know what I feel for you right now
is not love but leftover lust from a summer long ago, and that isn’t how I want to approach things if you give me another chance.”

  “Sebastian, I…”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything right now, though. I don’t know that I deserve a second chance, and you need time to heal. I want to be here for you as a friend, but I also want you to know that I’ve done some reflecting and some soul searching and have realized that the way I handled things was not right.”

  There was a breath of silence after I finished, a sweet expanse of time that seemed to extend on forever, swallowing all in its heartbeats. All I could feel was the sweet release of pent-up tension leaving my body. That swelling deep in my chest started to cease, and I could feel the calmness that was brought on by releasing how I felt, that I knew what I had done was ready to acknowledged in all my prideful ways.

  I knew she wasn’t ready to try things again, not just yet, but I could tell she appreciated my words. Deep down, I knew she might be able to give me that second chance one day. But first, I wanted to be there for her as a friend.

  “Thank you,” she said, leaning across the counter to give my cheek a little peck, almost knocking over the glasses of orange juice. “I appreciate it. I’m not ready to try things again just yet…but maybe at some point.”

  I nodded, finishing my final batch of pancakes with a flourish. “Well then, shall we eat?”

  22. (Ash)

  I heaved a sigh of relief as I entered the cab at the front of the airport. I was finally home, back in New York City after a month of touring. I only had a day here to recuperate before heading off again to the West Coast, and this time, for a long time.

  It still felt so surreal that anything had even happened, that the band had gained enough traction to go on any sort of a tour, that we had sold out almost all of our venues and made more income in just the past two shows than we ever had in our entire career as a band. We could do this full-time now, without worries about rent or food or anything else. We could really live like rockstars.