Page 22 of The Sebastian Guarantee
Sebastian held up the helmet. “I rode it here.” He waited for Oscar to burst out laughing, but the man didn’t even crack a smile.
His agitated friend took another drag off his smoke, then dropped it onto the sidewalk and ground it out with his foot. He paced in front of Tula’s scooter. “Okay, we can deal with that.”
Had the guy lost it?
Oscar Elliott could be the epitome of the moody, brooding artist, but something else weighed heavy on the man. His friend paced like a caged animal and nodded like he was going over a plan in his head. He gestured toward the street. “I’ve got my truck. I’ll drop the scooter off at your house on my way out of town.”
Sebastian looked the guy over, trying to assess if he had head trauma. “You’re here to return my sister’s scooter because you’re leaving town?”
Oscar stopped pacing and met his gaze. “No, Seb, I’m here because of Phoebe.”
“Phoebe,” Sebastian whispered as a burst of adrenaline coursed through him. “What about her?”
Concern welled in Oscar’s eyes. He raked his hands through his tangle of brown hair. “It’s not good, man. She needs you. She needs your help. And she needs it now.”
Chapter5
SEBASTIAN
The muscles in Sebastian’s chest tightened. “Is Phoebe okay? Is she in danger? Is she hurt?” He barely knew what was going on in her life. He hated himself for putting distance between them these past six months. He’d been an ass and a terrible friend. If she needed anything, he owed it to her to do whatever it took to make sure she was all right.
“First, I need you to turn on your damn phone,” Oscar quipped.
His phone?
Sebastian shook his head in disbelief. “You’re going to show up at my appointment like a psycho ex, lob aPhoebe-needs-helpbomb at me, and then insist I turn on my phone before you say anything else?”
“Yes,” Oscar shot back with a distinct edge to his voice. “And give me Tula’s helmet.”
Sebastian handed him the hot pink head covering, pulled his cell from his pocket, and powered it up. Vibrating with anxious energy, he stared at the screen.
Missed Group Video Chat with Phoebe Gale, Oscar Elliott, and Aria Paige-Grant. Recording available.
He looked up from his cell. “I missed a group video chat. That’s the Phoebe emergency?”
That couldn’t be it. The cigarettes and the rigid set of Oscar’s jaw told him that much.
Oscar set Tula’s scooter in the bed of his truck, then released a heavy sigh. “What you missed was Phoebe recording and basically livestreaming Jeremy, the drooler, dumping her in the worst way possible. Aria had to get off the call before Phoebe met up with Jeremy. I was the only one on with her. I heard everything. I was in the foothills photographing the fall colors when I heard it go to shit. I drove like a maniac to get back to Denver to be with her. But I can’t stay. That’s why I need your help.”
Sebastian’s stomach dropped. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do. But Phoebe and Jeremy weren’t together like together-together, were they?”
Phoebe couldn’t have given this guy her heart, could she?
Oscar threw up his hands. “I don’t know what they were. Phoebe was into him. He’d texted her and said he wanted to meet. She thought he was going to ask her to take things to the next level—whatever that meant. Instead, he told her he was only with her because he hoped he could get in with her uncle and aunt at Gale Tech.”
“He used her?” Sebastian spat.
Oscar ran his hands down his face. “Yeah.”
“Dammit,” Sebastian hissed under his breath. “I knew that guy was a wanker. I could feel it.”
“The guy is a grade A asshole. But—to be fair—you’ve never liked anyone she’s dated,” Oscar replied, then glanced at his phone.
Sebastian scoffed. “That’s not true. I liked . . .”
Shit!Oscar was right.
“It gets worse,” Oscar continued. “Jeremy couldn’t take the high road and tell her some bullshit like they were better off as friends.”
