A Filthy Christmas (Filthy Line #6) - Jaxson Kidman Page 0,6

said. “Come on. Get in my car.”

I was intrigued to see what kind of car Shane had. Just to figure out who he was.

Not that it was my business.

We walked across the parking lot and when I saw the sleek, black car with the tinted windows, I shook my head.

“Really?” I asked.

“What?” Shane asked. “Did you think I was driving a piece of shit car?”

“Kind of.”

“You don’t know who I am then,” he said. “You’ve probably seen me in concert and didn’t know it.”

“Sure. You do not have to give me a ride.”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “Although you should be doing something for me since you almost took out my shoulder.”

“Are you ever going to let that go?” I asked.

“Nah,” he said.

I got into the car.

When Shane started it, music blasted through the speakers.

I shut my eyes and sighed.

“Sorry, beauty,” he said after he turned it down. “Are your ears okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said to him. “Can you just drive?”

“I need your address,” he said with a grin that was too sexy for his own good.

I rattled off my address and reached for his radio.

I’d rather hear loud music than hear his voice again today.

He parked in front of my shitty apartment building.

“Home sweet home, huh?” Shane asked.

“It’s good enough. Thanks for the ride.”

I started to open the door and Shane touched my arm. “Hey. How about a kiss?”

“How about a punch to the mouth?”

“You took my shoulder out already. Are you always this violent?”

“Yes.”

“Who were you talking to on the phone?”

I scoffed. “That’s not your business. I already said that.”

“So I get nothing out of this drive?”

“Oh, wait, did I not suck your dick?” I asked.

“Now we’re talking.”

“You’re disgusting,” I said.

“Get used to it, beauty,” Shane said. “We have to work together now. I’ll be playing guitar and you’ll be singing.”

He lifted his sunglasses and his eyes were such a goddamn bright blue that I lost my breath for a few seconds.

Shane was gorgeous.

And a dickhead.

Typical musician.

I slid out of the car and slammed the door.

The window then rolled down.

Shane leaned across the passenger seat. “Last chance for a kiss.”

I lifted both middle fingers.

He laughed at me and took off.

I stood there after his car sped away.

For a second, a thought came to me.

It involved Shane… Blaze… me…

Not sexual.

Hell no.

But…

I shook my head.

“No, not worth it,” I whispered.

I only had a few more sessions with Filthy Line and then I’d move to the next project.

Shane could be cocky and sexy all he wanted.

I was untouchable to him as far as I was concerned.

I had dealt with rock stars before.

Why would this be any different?

3

SHANE

The first day in the studio came and went without much work actually getting done. I jammed on the guitar for hours. Running through any and every Filthy Line song I was asked to play. When it came to playing the new song with the band, I made sure to keep my distance from Dex’s spot in the studio.

He sat on the amp with his arm in a cast, looking mad at the world.

I played the song and when it stopped, Nash looked at Dex.

“Sounds like fucking garbage to me,” he said and walked away.

“Don’t take it personally,” Jay said.

“I never would,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

I took the guitar off and walked after Dex.

I caught him in the hallway and grabbed his shoulder and turned him around.

“Hit me,” I said.

“What?”

“Hit me. Hit me with your cast. Get it out of your system.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dex asked.

“I don’t want to play in your spot,” I said. “I don’t want to be here. I know you’re fucking pissed about me being here. Trust me, Dex, I’m not looking to steal the show from you. You’re Filthy Line. I’m not. Don’t fucking sit there and tell me my playing is garbage. You and I both know that was a good take.”

Dex moved his eyes.

I looked back and saw the rest of the band standing behind me, watching, waiting to see if Dex and I were going to end up fighting.

“You missed a note in the solo,” Dex said. “And the bend on the twenty-fourth fret is one and a half. Not just full. Try harder next time.”

Dex patted my shoulder and walked by me.

“He played it right,” Jay said.

“Fuck off, Jay,” Dex said.

“Let’s solo out his guitar and listen to it,” Nash said. “Then we have him replay the track and get the sound we want.”

“Are we really going to piss over a