A Filthy Friend (Filthy Line #5) - Jaxson Kidman Page 0,30

my own fun.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant… or maybe I did.

Bree came here to get away from her life. To have fun. There was nothing wrong with it.

But I was still her best friend.

I wasn’t going to sit back and let her do something too crazy or stupid.

It was just me trying to protect her… that was all.

I carried Bree’s bags again. This time to my house.

She looked around - again - her neck moving left to right so fast, I thought she was going to end up with whiplash.

“This is your house?” she asked.

“This is my house.”

“This is… this is crazy.”

I wasn’t going to downplay the house. Or my lifestyle.

I wanted a house with a lot of windows and a view of the city.

I lived in a rich area that was flooded with celebrities.

It wasn’t like some neighborhoods, where they were gated and the houses were on top of each other.

I had plenty of space.

There was a little bit of an allure that I was alone.

But when you looked out back and saw the city, you realized you weren’t alone at all.

Once inside the house, I tossed Bree’s bags to one of the couches.

“Want a drink?” I asked.

Bree was looking up at the skylights. “Sure…” She looked at me. “Wait. What?”

“I was offering you a drink,” I said. “I can give you the tour of the house if you want. Or I can just tell you what’s in here.”

“Yeah, do that. I want to snoop on my own.”

“There’s only five bedrooms. Modest.” I winked. “The master is the doorway down the hallway upstairs. That’s the biggest room. Private bath and balcony. The other rooms are nice. Two and two share bathrooms, so there’s a total of three bathrooms upstairs. On the first floor here, if you go down to the end of the house, I have my own recording studio setup. That room is full of guitars, drums, equipment. There’s a little arcade in there too. Just for the fun of it. Out back is the pool and hot tub. I think that’s about it. I’m sure I’m missing a few rooms and bathrooms.”

“How much did this cost?” Bree asked. Then she covered her mouth. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

I laughed. “Do you really want to know how much this place cost?”

“No,” she said. “It’ll make me hate you.”

“So the question now… where do you want your bags? My room? Or do you want a spare bedroom?”

“I’m not sleeping in a spare bedroom,” she said.

“My bed is really big,” I said. “Not that we haven’t cuddled before.”

“Or you can sleep in a spare bedroom,” she said and batted her eyes at me.

“Not a chance in hell, babe,” I said. “Just know if I bring home a stripper, we’re coming to bed. You’re okay with a threesome?”

Bree laughed. But her cheeks turned bright red.

She pointed to her bags.

“Carry those for me,” she said.

She snapped her fingers.

She was the only person in the world who could get away with talking to me like that.

I took her upstairs to the master bedroom.

I smiled the entire time.

The room oozed with rock star wildness.

Everything was dark and silky.

The bed could fit ten people, easily.

The windows were floor to ceiling, all with mechanical blinds that I controlled from the bed. The balcony overlooked the city. There was a corner nook with a light and a desk where I never did anything at all, but it looked pretty badass.

“This is amazing,” Bree said.

“Check out the shower, babe.”

I pointed to the bathroom door.

I waited for the yell.

When it happened, I strolled to the bathroom and stood in the doorway.

“What the hell is this?” Bree asked.

The shower was the length of the bathroom.

Glass doors, custom tile, and a grand total of six shower heads.

Four above your head. One on each end of the wall that detached.

“There’s custom lighting in there too,” I said. “So you can set the mood. And built-in speakers. And each shower head has multiple settings.”

“Is it wrong to want to take a shower right now?” Bree asked.

“Not at all,” I said. “We have time. You smell like you're hungover anyway.”

Bree waved her middle fingers at me. Then she just waved her hands. “Get out of here.”

“Why?”

“You’re not getting a free show.”

“How much then?”

“Sab…”

“Bree…”

She shook her head. “So this is your thing? The playful, rock star flirting?”

“What do you think?” I asked. “You have to be honest… when you mix it with the house, the fame, the money, the attitude… it works, right?”

“Maybe a