Off Her Rockers (Loving All Wrong #3.5) (19 page)

“Yep,” I replied through a grin, proud as a lion of my boy. “That’s your son. I swear
nothing
bothers him. He shrieks when he’s hungry and that’s it. First time I tried breastfeeding him, he grimaced, forced my nipple out of his mouth with his tongue, and shrieked, so loud and so hard you’d think I was murdering him. He only drinks from the bottle. He’s so mellow you won’t be able to help falling hard for him.”

“I already have.” Davian looked as proud as I felt. “I can take him anywhere.
Anywhere
. He’ll just chill and take it all in. Like a boss.”

“JK said the same thing.”

Rounding the bed toward us, he pressed a kiss on top of Jacob’s head, and before I could stop him, he pressed one on mine, too, before turning and sauntering out of the room with a strut that said he was the luckiest man in the world.

Our morning as a “family” was fun and flowing. At one point, I found myself wishing I could just let Xavier go and be with Davian.

Before Xavier, I imagined this moment a thousand times. Dreamed of reuniting with Davian and coming together as a family, raising Jacob.

This, right here, breakfast around a proper table with my son and his Dad, talking nonsense and cracking jokes, was what I’d
yearned
for. What I thought I came to L.A. to achieve. Now that I was right there, smiling in that picture I’d always conjured up, it didn’t feel…right.

Not that Davian couldn’t make me happy. He could. He used to make me hella happy. But all those things, all those feelings, all those dreams, was before Xavier busted into my life, armed and dangerous, shredding me and rebuilding me. No, Davian would never be able to make me feel alive and invincible like Xavier did. That man had woken something inside me that I didn’t even know existed, and that’s the reason I chose him.

After breakfast, I loafed and played around with Jacob in his cool-as-hell playroom that his father had designed for him. By noon, worn out, he fell asleep on me.

With nothing left to do and dreading being alone with Davian anywhere at all in that house, I decided absconding was the best option.

I was still wearing my revealing bodice from the night before, so I snuck into Davian’s room and stole a plain T-shirt from his drawer.

My goal to slip out of the house unnoticed was an epic fail, as Davian was downstairs in the living area putting together a train station for Jacob. An area I had to walk through to get to the front door. What made me think he was in the kitchen?

He looked up when he heard me, a pleased smile curving his lips at the sight of me in his T-shirt. Then said lips curved down at my purse. “You’re leaving?”

“I don’t live here, now do I?”

He abandoned his task and followed me as I picked up the pace to the front door. “That can be easily arranged.”

“Nice. I’ll think about it,” I joked, turning the door handle. “Who
doesn’t
want to live in a mansion in Bel-Air?”

His hand covered over mine on the handle, stilling me, and
he
wasn’t joking when he urged, “You should. None of this makes sense without you here, Ally. I need you.
We
need you.”

I turned my head to him. Wrong move. I stared. For a minute too long. Swept up in the mesmerizing, soul-capturing blue of his irises. I was transfixed, lost for
a minute too long
in the unkempt, lazy-Sunday yumminess of him that I’d denied myself the right to savor earlier that morning. All a minute too long. Because I didn’t think to stop him when he leaned in and kissed me. I didn’t stop my lips from parting and accepting him. Didn’t stop my free hand from fisting his shirt and yanking him closer, nor did I stop my moans from spilling down his throat.

My purse slipped from my hand and fell to the ground with a “phhud”, and Davian immediately drove me back against the wooden door, as we both got swept into a vortex of burning lust and heightening desire and unquenched longing.

One eager hand worked a path down between my thighs and he cupped me. I thrust into it. Welcomed it. Because, in that moment, I wanted him. After everything, I wanted to let him have me. Right here and now.

“Ahrrgghmmm.”

At the sound of the intruding harrumph, we both jerked away from each other.

Dave. He was standing to the right of us with a sandwich in one hand and a Collins glass of lemonade in the other. “Try to remember I live here, too, kids.” Giving us ‘the look’, he took a giant bite of his sandwich and continued his stroll.

Oh hell. What was wrong me with me?! Why was I making things harder for myself? I knew who and what I wanted. So why did I almost let Davian screw me against his front door?

Davian, with a ragged breath, opened his mouth to say something, but before he could suggest we go upstairs and finish what we started, I ducked, snatched up my fallen purse, and skedaddled.

I seriously needed to up my therapy sessions.

I pushed into the lobby of my apartment building in time—the wrong time—to see Tex turning away from the concierge’s desk. Of all the people I could’ve imagined coming across in my lobby, Tex wasn’t one of them.
Welp
, some poor girl’s heart got broken this morning, that’s for sure.

Fishing for my keycard from my purse, I careened to the left, thinking it best to give the scumdump a wide berth.

“Alina!”

I kept walking, because I figured there had to be some other Alina in the building and she’s the one that jerk face was calling. Not me. Nope. No way.

“Alina,” he called again, and this time he was closer. In the next second, his hand was on my arm.

Slow and steady, I turned to face him. “I’m sorry, are you sure you’ve got the right person?”

With unconcealed annoyance, he combed his fingers back through his long black tresses. “Lower your horns, Lucifer’s Bride. This ain’t no joy trip for me either.”

“What do you want, Tex?”

Eying my outfit—leggings and thigh-high boots from the night before and a man’s oversize T-shirt—he asked in a tight voice, “You seriously stabbed Latimore last night?”

Full on attitude, I crossed my arms. “And how’s that any of your business?”

Weary, bloodshot eyes narrowed in on me, a tic jumping in his tightly clenched jaw. The dude looked like he wanted to throttle me. “Gimme an answer.
Yes
or
no
.”

“Go face-plant on a knife, Tex. Who I open my legs for is none.of.your.business.” I whirled around and continued toward the elevator, all but pounding the call button.

Tex followed, stepping up beside me, his phone pressed to his ear. A few seconds passed as I waited, and then, “’Sup, Latimore…Nah, I’m good. Hey, quick question: Rumor has it you bitched out Alina O’Hara last night. How true is it?…Ahhhh…Nah, it wouldn’t…Yeah, man, we cool. Link up’s at Chino tonight.”

By the time he hung up, I was both gaping and glaring at him. Did he seriously just… “You
did not
just do that!”

“Now that I know that’s Davi’s shirt and not Latimore’s, can we talk?”

“Uh, I don’t
think
so.”

The elevator opened just then and I started to walk in, but Tex gripped my upper arm, keeping me back.

“Let go of me,” I hissed through clenched teeth, this close to whipping out the mace in my purse.

A frustrated noise rumbled in his throat. “I don’t like you, Alina. You know I don’t. Coming here was hard enough, and the longer I stand here with you the more nauseous I feel, but I’m sucking it up because this is important. You’re a lying, untrustworthy, selfish, manipulative bitch. But you chose him. So you had to have cared about him. At least a lil’ bit.”

Ohhhh, this was about
Xavier
, not Xena. “What is it?”

He shot a glance at the elevator and shook his head. “I’m not interested in going up to your brothel. So if we could grab a seat down here, that’d be great.”

Ugh! What a jackass.

Jerking my arm from his grip, I glowered, but he just spun and made a beeline for the sitting section in the lobby. We settled on a two-seater sofa, leaving plenty of space between us.

“Xavier needs help,” he said, getting straight to the point.

“I think all of L.A. can agree on that,” I returned through a humorless laugh. “But what does that have to do with me?”

“
All
of it has to do with you. You left, and now he’s worse off than before. What the hell did you do to him?”

My head snapped back, indignant, and I sputtered, “W-what did I-
I
do to him? I chose him. He chose
Jess
. How dare you come here pointing fingers? Your bandmate’s unstable? Boo-hoo, I don’t give a shit! Go to Jess. He’s her problem now, not mine.”

I pushed to my feet, making to flee from this asshole before he pissed me off any further, but he seized my wrist and pushed up, too.

A deep crease formed between his brows. “What the hell do you mean ‘he chose Jess’? Are you saying they were hooking up?”

“I’m thinking you should get your shit together and try working things out with Xena. That way you’ll never be behind on details like this.”

A dark cloud passed over his face for a fleeting second, but he stuck to the subject. “Look, if they used to hook up in the past, whatever, but for the present, this is a fact: Xavi and Jess
are not
together. Sure, since you left he’s been spreading himself thin. Real thin. Sometimes two chicks in one day, but trust me, not one of those women have been Jess. And I should know, ‘cause my room’s right across from his. I see every piece of ass that goes through that door.”

A million arrows ripped messily through my heart at his words. Not that Jessica and Xavier weren’t together. No, I could’ve handled that. Could’ve handled that he settled with Jessica and having hot orgies with her and friends from time to time. But the knowledge of him voluntarily whoring around with “sometimes two chicks in one day” hurt. No, I couldn’t handle
that
.

“You’re wrong,” I told him. “Jess told me they were—”

“Jess
lied
.” His voice was weighed down with impatience. “Listen, I don’t care about this love triangle drama. All I know is that Xavi is drinking because of
you
. The longest he’s ever been sober is when he was with
you
. Last night after we fought him into submission, he was damn near close to tears babbling about
you
. So if there’s anyone who can pull him out of this right now, it’s
you
.

“All he does these days is drink and sleep around. I got a tip-off this morning that Benny’s out shopping for a guitarist to replace him. That’s why I’m here talking to you right now. We start touring again soon, and if he doesn’t pull it together, he’s gonna get voted out this time around. His rep has hurt the band enough.”

Tex’s grip had tightened with each word as he spoke, as though he wanted me to
get it
, as though he was certain no one else could help Xavier but me.

It took every ounce of strength in me not to break down right there. This was awful. Bad. Really bad.