9

sebastian

 

“You know, I gotta say,” I muttered, stepping outside and squinting up at the sun. “This town fucking blows.”

Greyson turned briefly, only to look at my shoes, and then looked back at the sidewalk beneath his feet. I figured any acknowledgement was better than none at all, so I stood beside him, my back pressed to the window.

“I grew up in a shitty little town like this a few hours away from here,” I continued, revisiting my small-town childhood for his sake. “Reputations take a long time to die in towns like that. Even now, when I go back to visit my parents, everyone that recognizes me talks about the stupid shit I used to do when I was a kid.” I bumped my shoulder against his. “That’s why I changed my name from Morrison to Moore. Well, okay, not really, but still. It would’ve been a good reason.”

“I really don’t care about where you grew up,” Greyson grumbled, shooting me with a sideways sneer.

“Hey, well now, there’s something we have in common already.”

“Whatever,” he muttered. “You don’t have to do this shit, you know.”

“What shit?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Bond with me, or whatever you’re trying to do,” he snickered, lifting his head and stabbing me with his steely glare.

“I’m not,” I insisted with my best I-don’t-give-a-shit shrug. “I’m just coming out here to make it look like I’m talking to you, because your aunt asked sort of nicely. Whether you come back inside or not is entirely up to you. I don’t really give a fuck either way.”

“If you didn’t give a fuck, you wouldn’t have called,” the kid replied with the beginnings of a smug grin tugging at his lips.

Nodding slowly, the corners of my mouth tipped downward. “Touché. But if you’ve already figured out that much, then you must be smart enough to know your mom was no whore.”

The comment got to him and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “I know that already.”

“Then why’d you let that kid get to you? You could’ve walked away, ignored him or whatever.”

“Because she was my mom!” he shouted, pushing away from the glass.

He took two steps away from me, crossing his arms and standing at the edge of the sidewalk. He waited there, eyeing the line between sidewalk and street, as though he was making the decision to stay or run. When he finally turned around, I saw his expression etched in stone with only the tears brimming in his eyes giving away any emotion.

“I had enough of hearing it,” he added. “They’ve been saying shit most of my life, about her or me not having a dad, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Nodding, I looked him in the eye. “Never said I blamed you, kid. I would’ve done the same thing.” And you do have a dad. The words nagged at the tip of my tongue, but I choked them down with a fervent swallow and let myself grin as I asked, “You wanna eat? Because, I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking starving.”

 

***

 

I’m a people person, a people pleaser, and there are very few times in my life where I recall the silence being awkward.

Well, it was awkward now.

Tabby silently prodded at her chicken parmesan with the tips of her fork. Greyson scrolled through his phone in between lifting his gaze to me, making sure I was still there. Making sure I was still me. I wished there had been an instantaneous comfort between us. You see it sometimes, on those TV shows where the long-lost parent is reunited with their child. They hug, they cry, and they sit down and talk like they never missed a beat. Why couldn’t that have happened for us? Why did it feel so unfair that it hadn’t?

Sweeping my gaze around the restaurant, I huffed with a weighted breath. If I wanted any semblance of a relationship to form, I needed to connect with these people, and I knew there was no way that was happening with Tabby. Not yet. The woman was sexy in an off-limits kind of way, and we had nothing to talk about. Nothing to bond over.

Besides, I wasn’t there for her.

So, I clung to the only thing I knew I had with the kid.

“Okay.” I hit my hand to the surface of the table, drawing both of their attentions to me. “Favorite drummers. And … go!”

Greyson hesitated, glancing from me and back to his phone, before licking his lips. “Uh …”

“Okay, I’ll go first,” I offered, steepling my hands and tapping my fingers together. “Dave Grohl, Taylor Hawkins, Chad Smith, and Carter Beauford.”

“No Travis Barker?” Tabby chimed in with a challenging squint of her eyes.

Well, this is interesting.

I smirked. “Barker’s cool. Fast. Not a favorite though.”

“Him or his style?” She folded her arms over her chest, tipping her head.

“His style isn’t one I try to channel myself into, no,” I countered. “You’re a Blink fan?”

Shrugging a shoulder, she tipped her mouth into a questionable smirk. “They’re okay. I was just asking. A guy I used to date back in the day was a huge fan of Blink 182 and Travis Barker. He said he was the best drummer on the planet.”

“Nobody is the best drummer on the planet.” I leaned back in my chair. “Greyson, man, I’m still waiting.”

Swallowing, he shrugged and shook his head as though he was clueless, but then he said, “Dave Grohl, Taylor Hawkins, Tony Royster Jr., and, um …” His eyes lifted, settled on mine, and dropped with embarrassment. “You.”

“Shit.” I grinned, pushing a hand into the length of my hair. “That’s quite a list to be included in. Tony Royster? I mean, shit, I don’t hold a candle to that kid.”

“Uh, you come pretty close,” Greyson disputed, quirking his lips into a disapproving frown. “I mean, I think so anyway.”

“Well, thank you.” I bowed my head, lifting my mouth into a lopsided smile. “You’re a Grohl and Hawkins fan, too. See, I knew I liked you, kid. Didn’t know we had the same taste in music, though. You like the Foo Fighters?”

That finally triggered something and detonated the bomb of excitement. Greyson lifted his eyes to mine, nodding adamantly. “Hell yeah!”

“Awesome,” I nodded thoughtfully. We were getting somewhere. “Top three favorite Foo songs.”

“Oh, crap,” Greyson muttered, hit with a nearly impossible question. “Uh … okay, I think I’d pick ‘My Hero,’ ‘Everlong,’ and ‘Gimme Stitches.’ What about you?”

“A couple of classics and an unlikely pick.” I nodded, impressed. “Okay. I’d have to agree on ‘Everlong.’ That song is … about as perfect as a song can get. I’m really into ‘Aurora’ and ‘Arlandria’ too. ‘Stacked Actors’ is up there, but we’re just doing three.”

Greyson bobbed his head with enthusiasm, practically bouncing in his seat. The difference from before was night and day, and I wondered when he’d last talked about something other than his issues.

“Okay,” I said. “Favorite—”

“Wait,” Tabby spoke up, leaning forward in her seat. “Why don’t I get to answer?”

Folding my arms onto the table, I cocked my head. “Well, if you have three favorite Foo songs, then by all means, Ms. Clarke.”

Pursing her lips and looking to the small pendant light hanging just above the table, she drew in a deep breath before saying, “Hmm … well, it is a tough question, and it usually depends on my mood. But I’d say, on any given day, ‘Have It All,’ ‘M.I.A.,’ and ‘February Stars’ would be my three all-time favorites. Although, I will say, ‘Everlong’ is probably my favorite love song in the world.”

Well, shit. Miss Prim and Proper was a fan. A real fan. Not just someone who enjoyed a few of the singles, but someone who listened to the albums.

I sucked my teeth, nodding slowly. Taking in the piercings hugging her ears and all of that red hair. “Color me impressed, Tabby.”

“Aunt Tabs took me to see the Foo Fighters for my birthday a few years ago,” Greyson chimed in while I continued to assess her and all of her layers.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, glancing toward him. “Which show?”

“Citi Field,” Tabby told me before cutting a small piece of chicken and popping it into her mouth. “We stayed overnight in New York City. Grey had never been to a concert before.”

I’d been to both. “Which night did you go to?”

“Both.” There was a bit of conceit in the way she said it, like she was bragging. “We were in the first few rows.”

I knew what she was doing. She was showing off, showing me up, but her attempts were snubbed by my curiosity and the growing excitement in my pants.

Nodding, my smirk never fading, I replied, “So was I.”

Greyson’s jaw nearly hit the table. “You were there?”

“Kid, don’t look too surprised. I have seen the Foo Fighters thirty-seven—”

“Forty-two for me,” Tabby lifted a hand, and dammit if her smirk wasn’t playful.

 

***

 

Outside of the restaurant, Tabby was pacing the sidewalk, talking to someone of importance on her cellphone. She kept holding a finger up to Greyson and me as her conversation continued.

“Is it always like this?” I grumbled through the side of my mouth.

With a tired nod, Greyson groaned. “Mm-hmm.”

“Mrs. Worthington, I know you wanted to keep the sale of the house more local and community-based, but I think we might have a little more luck if we went to the internet,” Tabby prattled into the phone, waving her free hand this way and that. “Yes, I know you don’t have a computer … I know; it’s outside of your—well, yes, of course I would oversee the whole thing.”

The woman didn’t know how to leave her work at the office. That much was abundantly clear, and yet she wondered why the kid wouldn’t connect with her. I scoffed to myself, shaking my head with irritated aggravation as she made another pass. I wouldn’t call myself an expert with kids, but this was a no-brainer.

A text chimed through on my phone and I slipped it from my pocket. I smiled at Devin’s name, missing my friend.

 

  Devin: Hey bro, how did it go with the kid?

  Me: Still going. Waiting for his aunt to stop bullshitting on her phone.

  Devin: Aunt, huh? The hot one?

 

From the corner of my eye, I made sure that Greyson wasn’t reading my texts before replying.

 

  Me: Man, you have no fucking clue.

  Devin: She still think you’re an asshole?

Me: Probably. But she’s been to forty-something Foo Fighters concerts. I was ready for her to suck my dick right there.

Devin: LMAO. Impressive. Hope you didn’t tell her that.

Me: Nah. Kept it to myself.

Devin: Aww. My little boy’s growing up.

Devin: How’s the kid?

Me: Not sure. He’s got that brooding teen thing down pretty well. Except he actually does have shit to brood over.

  Me: Gotta go. Aunt’s off the phone.

 

“My client,” Tabby told me needlessly as we each pocketed our respective phones. “I’ve spent nearly a year trying to sell her house.”

“Is that a long time?” I asked, not knowing the first thing about real estate.

“It’s long for me,” she stated matter-of-factly, but the confidence in her tone couldn’t hide the glimmer of disappointment in her eyes.

Clearing her throat, Tabby turned to Greyson and reached her hand out to squeeze his shoulder. “We should get back home, kiddo. It’s getting late and you have homework.”

“Whatever,” he muttered in a low, rasped voice as he pushed away from the building and walked toward where I assumed they had parked.

“Are you going to say goodbye?” Tabby warned, pressing a fist to her cocked hip.

Greyson threw a wave over his shoulder as he continued to walk. Tabby huffed irritably and turned to tip her head back, looking up to my eyes.

“Thank you for dinner,” she replied with a small, polite smile. “You really didn’t have to pay. We could’ve split—”

“You’re kidding, right?” I scoffed and shook my head. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

With another sigh, she tucked her purse under her arm and extended a hand. “Well, thank you again, Sebastian. I hope Greyson can see you again soon.”

Clasping my fingers around hers, I didn’t shake. Instead I just held her hand, heated palm to heated palm, and a side of my mouth lifted. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Taken aback, she pulled her hand from mine, laying it at her side. “Tomorrow? I … well, Greyson has school, but I suppose you can see him afterward. Isn’t that a lot of driving in only a couple of days though? You don’t mind?”

“I’ll just stay at a hotel,” I shrugged with nonchalance. “I have nothing going on right now.”

“O-oh,” she stuttered, surprised and flustered. “Do you, um, need the address of a good one in the area?”

“Nah.” I shook my head. “I’ll just Yelp that shit.”

Tabby nodded once. “Well then, I’ll make sure Greyson is ready after school.”

“Awesome.” I tipped my chin, meeting her eyes with mine. “Have a good night, Tabby.”

“You too, Sebastian.”