by S. Ann Cole
His grin was so much wider than the ocean that it was hard to believe this was a man basically detested by everyone in Los Angeles right now. I couldn’t understand what had him so jaunty this morning.
This was an unwelcome image of the Davian I’d fallen madly in love with. The Davian I’d convinced myself I couldn’t live without. Fun, flirty, jocular, sexy, and irresistible. His mood spelled free. Was he happy because he was single again?
Although I was grinning my face off at his antics on the inside, on the outside, I scowled and snapped out, “You’re late.”
Blue eyes focused on the coffee cup in my hand, and a flicker of disappointment crossed his face as he replied through an exaggerated sigh, “Everyone hates me now, so I had a long ass wait in the line at Starbucks…but you got coffee already so…no first sip for me.” He tapped on the passenger window of the Range and Mel powered it down a second later. “Mornin’, balls of steel. You want a Cappuccino?”
Mel arched a brow at him, and he laughed. Removing one of the cups from the tray, he thrust the tray with the remaining coffee to her.
Accepting the tray, Mel powered the window back up without an acknowledgment.
Davian’s gaze came back to me as he took a sip of his coffee, and I thanked heavens I’d heeded the forethought of donning sunglasses because his stare burned.
His facial hair was groomed but not shaved, just cleaner, and his rock star haircut was growing out, the middle longer than the sides, which meant he was all dark-haired scruffy and uneven shagginess kinds of hot. A look I never would’ve imagined would work on him. But dear God, this rocker was rocking it. Add to that his thrown together attire of acid-washed jeans and a grungy sleeveless T-shirt.
“You look beautiful,” he told me.
Turning my face away from him, I sipped my own coffee again and stared up the street of the quiet neighborhood. I didn’t really understand what we were doing there. On the wealthier, family-oriented side of town, farther away from all the noise of the city. Lovely detached homes with manicured lawns and cute little mailboxes, birds chirping and flitting from tree to tree, butterflies fluttering around...
“Any minute now,” I murmured flatly, “you can start telling me why we’re here.”
Davian stepped up beside me, gaze trained in the same direction of the neighborhood, and we both raised our coffee cups to our lips and sipped. “House shopping.”
I almost snorted out my coffee. “Excuse me?”
“I spent yesterday looking at houses with a real estate agent. We narrowed it down to two. The one I’ll choose depends on your approval.” He swung his free hand around my waist and twisted me to face the gate of the home we were parked in front of. “Starting with this one.”
Low wooden gate, redbrick columns, shapely shrubs, and beyond was a gorgeous two-story colonial style house.
“Got the keys from the real estate agent before I came here.” His arm left my waist and he clasped my hand in his. “Come on.”
But I remained rooted, repeating, “Excuse me?”
In a long-suffering tone, he crooned, “What now, baby?”
I slipped my hand from his. “Firstly, please refrain from using any kind of inappropriate endearments where I’m concerned. Second, why the hell am I house-shopping with you? We’re supposed to be discussing moving our son here.”
He waved a hand at the house. “This is a part of the discussion. Do you think I wanna raise my son at that villa?” He seized my hand again. “I don’t want this life for him. He’s going to be a boring accountant or a brain surgeon or some shit. Dad never wanted this life for me either, but I’d been determined to ‘make him proud’, follow in his steps, so I kept pursuing…and look where that’s gotten me. I’ve lost the woman I love along with the life and family I’ve always wanted.”
My hand in his trembled a tad, but I did my best to keep it together, and for the second time that morning I thanked the heavens I wore my shades—even though Davian stared intensely, as though he could see right through the lenses. Who was I kidding? I never could hide with Davian. Sometimes he knew me better than I did myself.
“I’m not a real rock star, Ally.”
“I know.” I jerked my head at the house. “How many rooms?”
A grin brightened his face again as if the gambling ball had landed on his Russian roulette number, and he tugged me toward the house, enthused. “Three.”
I let him lead me inside the house and show me around, ebullience in each word as he told me what room would be Jacob’s and what he planned to put in it. Mostly I nodded and made sounds of agreement, as his excitement did not allow room for much else. He was completely dotty about a son he hadn’t even met yet, and I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to feel about that. I couldn’t recall ever seeing him this giddy—about anything at all—before.
I liked the house, it lacked nothing, and the bedrooms were massive, decent size yard space with a pool and gazebo…a nice little family home.
There was another place I had to see, he’d said, so we locked up and headed out.
“Ride with me,” he suggested as I started for the Range.
My contemplative gaze darted between his sports car and the Range. “I don’t think that’s a—”
“What has he done to you?”
“I’m sorry?”
“The Ally I used to know was fearless. ‘Ride my wave or drown in it’, that was your attitude. Now, you’re wound up so tight, shoulders all the way up to your ears, afraid to even smile at me lest your giant man burst through some imaginary door.”
“It isn’t—”
“You’re afraid of him.”
“I’m afraid of losing him. There’s a difference.”
He looked as if I’d slapped him, and I watched, in a matter of seconds, as all the carefree happiness he woke up with this morning drained right out of his eyes.
Holding his hands up, palms forward in surrender, he began moving backward. “Alright. Ride with Mel.”
Tapping on the window of the Range, he gave Mel the address when she powered it down. Mel responded with something I didn’t hear, and he shrugged and replied, “You’ve got to ask her that.”
As he moved off to his sports car, Mel reversed the Range to me with the window down and asked, “What’s the point of riding in two different vehicles if you’re both going the same place?”
Even though I knew Mel was one hundred percent Team Davi and she tried to shove us together every chance she got, I pretended that her question was a logical one and used it as the “okay” I needed to ride with Davian.
I was afraid of losing Xavier, but I also wanted to get in Davian’s car, as much as I knew I shouldn’t.
Davian revved up his sports car, screeched and spun in the road to go in the opposite direction, and I jogged around the Range and out into the street to stop him.
With a sharp hit of the brakes, he stared at me through the windshield. Jogging to the car, I opened the passenger door and folded in, buckling my seatbelt. “I’ll ride with you.”
After studying me for a few seconds, he reached into the glove compartment, retrieved a pair of aviators and slipped them on. He was hiding from me now. I’d hurt him. Again.
Really though, how did he expect me to act? Like I was single? Like he was still the light of my life? He didn’t choose me. I didn’t choose him. But we still had each other through a child.
He said it himself, he didn’t respect my relationship with Xavier. But I had to respect it. Xavier was my life now. A life Davian made abundantly clear he wanted back into. So excuse me for being cautious!
Why did I feel guilty anyway? Arrggghh! These rockers were going to drive me off the deep end.
We drove without words to the next location, Linkin Park blasting through the speakers, hair whipping in the wind.
When Davian swerved up to the stately gates of a gated community, and he had to answer a number of questions before the hulk of a man in the security hut allowed
him entrance, I knew without seeing the house that this was the one. Maybe it was an effect of being spoiled by cousin Chad, but good security was number one for anywhere would be. So far, the security setup here was a giant plus.
“This one’s bigger. Four beds,” Davian informed me as he turned into a gap with a mocha-colored house at the dead end.
Exclusive community. No identical houses like with most gated communities. Each house had its own street, providing enough distance between neighbors.
No cute family charm like the previous place. More on the contemporary side with a touch of Mediterranean. Fit Davian’s character more than the other did.
As I climbed out of the car, my cell phone buzzed against my thigh. Digging into my pocket for it, I glanced at the screen and winced at the eight missed calls from “Samson”—which was what I began referring to Xavier as—and an unhappy text message.
WTF?
Sighing, I hit reply and tapped out:
Sorry.
____
Not cool, Chino.
____
I know.
But having u with us will just make things more awkward than they already are.
____
If he touches you…
____
I promised you I would behave, didn’t I?
No reply.
But a minute later, Davian’s phone rang. He glanced at his screen, then at me, a smirk flirting with his lips. With an eyebrow arching up over his aviators, he answered, “How may I help, old friend?”
He listened for a few seconds. Laughed. Something humorless and bitter. “Leave the threats for someone who’s actually afraid of you, big guy.” Listened some more. “That’s her choice, not yours. And if I find out you’re bossing her around or forcing her to do anything against her will, know that I don’t hand out threats when it comes to Alina. I bite first, bark later.” He pressed off the call and turned to me. “Ready?”
Assuming Xavier wouldn’t be replying to my text seeing as he decided to have words with Davian himself, I tucked my phone in my pocket. “What was that about?” As if, I don’t already know.
“Goliath running his mouth,” he said, waving a dismissive hand and nodding me toward the house. “Looks like he forgot how that story ended. The little guy won.”
Making a face, I rounded the car to catch up with him strutting up the driveway. “What’s happened to you? It’s like you became this giant butthole overnight.”
He braked up, spun on me, and whipped off his aviators so I could see his eyes. “It’s what didn’t happen to me. You didn’t happen to me. So I don’t give a shit about anything or anyone anymore, save for the gift you gave me. My son.”
“I’m so tired of your whining,” I lied, feigning exasperation. “Get over it and go back to Jess.”
Twirling the keys around his pointing finger, hooked his aviators on the neckline of his T-shirt, spun back around without a word, and continued up to the house. Keying the door open, held it wide for me to enter.
The second I was inside, he kicked the door shut, gripped me by the shoulders and drove me back against it. Anger burned in tiny orange flames around the rims of his blue irises. “How can you be so callous about me? About us? It’s like you’re really trying hard to make me hate you.”
That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. “There is no ‘us’, Davi.”
Laughing, he gave a shake of his head. “I knew it. Same old Ally. That’s exactly what you’re working at, isn’t it? For me to hate you? Lash out? Because that will make it easier for you to convince yourself you made the right choice, won’t it?”
As his gaze dropped to my lips and his body closed in, I pushed my hands out between us to maintain the gap. “Davi, don’t.”
His lips descended to a breadth of mine, and my heartbeat shot off like a rocket, whooshing loudly in my ears.
I felt like crying.
For wanting something I shouldn’t want. For feeling something I shouldn’t feel.
Instead of connecting our lips, he whispered, breath hot with the scent of caramel, “Don’t worry, I’d never do anything you don’t want me to.” Then he backed off.
Waiting a few guilty seconds for my traitorous heart to slow down, I told him, “If we’re going to be around each other, then I’m gonna need you to keep your face out of mine.”
He bestowed a deep, sexy chuckle. “Afraid you’ll break? Afraid you’ll have to admit that what you have with him is bullshit compared to what you have with me?”
“No,” I returned, saccharine, “I just think you have a pretty head, and I’d hate to see what it looks like detached from your body.”
Anger gone, he asked in a lighthearted tone, “You really think he’s some kind of a god, don’t you?”
“A king.”
At this, Davian actually rolled his eyes. He walked farther into the house and waved a hand. “Look around. Tell me what you think. Four beds, three and a half baths, pool out back, finished basement…”
“Frankly, Davi, I could care two craps what the house looks like. It has better security than the last house, therefore, it’s my pick.”
“I knew you’d say that!” He whipped around to face me, grinning wide. “I know you so well, Ally, it scares me sometimes.”
“Then why’d you bother showing me the first one?”
“Because I get to spend more time with you. Obviously.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I already placed an offer on this. That’s how sure I was you’d choose this.
I sighed. “Well, wasn’t this a waste of my day.”
Davian strode around the empty space, circling me. “So, Dad’s bringing Jacob in a couple of weeks. He wants to help with him. He’ll be staying with me until the sale on this house is—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” My hand shot up like a student in class. “What in the world…how and when did you and Dave make plans about my son.”
“Well, you were a no-show for the Skype meeting I planned with JK and Dad last night. So, we went ahead and made the arrangements without you. JK said to bring you up to speed.”
“Unbelievable!” I exploded, hands thrown up in the air. “Arrangements. About my son. Without me!”
“Don’t be mad at us,” he said through a mocking laugh. “You chose lover boy last night. I need to see my son. I won’t wait on you and your lover’s unwanted ‘suggestions’. You’ve kept him from me long enough.”
“By the way, what do you mean by Dave’s going to be helping you with him?” I questioned, ignoring whatever load of bull he just spouted. “Jacob will be living with me. At the penthouse. And we’ll work out a schedule for the days you’ll get to have him.”
Davian stopped circling. Scratched his chin. “Yeah…that’s not gonna happen. Jacob will be living with me. Here. And we’ll work out a schedule for the days you get to have him.”
I let out a bark of laughter at the ridiculousness of his statement. “Keeping dreami—”
“If you want to fight me on this, Alina, you can do so in court.” Feet apart, he stuffed his hands in his front pockets, shoulders high and squared, a vindictive gleam in his eyes. “I already spoke to a lawyer, you know, just in case. She told me—based upon the facts I’ve given her, including you leaving your kid behind in San Francisco to drink and party and screw rock stars in L.A.—that the odds will definitely be in my favor. Piece of cake, she said.”
Anger crashed down on my shoulders. Loud and heavy. So palpable I could almost grasp it and bowl him clean over with it. “Asshole!” I pushed his chest. “I won’t. Let you take. My son from me!”
Eyebrows raised, jaw set with the sharp rigidity of revenge, he patronized, “And where is your son, Ally? Where? I don’t see him with you. So how can I take him from you?” He shook his head at me, as though I were the one being difficult. “You’re not the one who’s been taking care of him while you’re here gallivanting with Xavi, and with me. I doubt you would’ve brought him here to live with you if I ha
dn’t found out about him. I don’t see what the big deal is. What’s the difference between JK taking care him all the way in San Francisco and me, his real father, taking care of him here? If you were hunting freedom from motherhood, you got it. All the freedom in the world to play house with your king.”
Hot, burning liquid brimmed my eyes at how terrible a person he was making me seem.
Davian was a decent guy. He wasn’t this type of person. He didn’t hurt people on purpose. Not Davian. When he unintentionally made someone cry, he would feel awful about it for days.
I did this to him. I made him bitter. I changed him into an asshole.
Wiping my tears, I tried to appear like the strong woman Xavier told me I was. I failed. “If you’re trying to make me hate you, it’s working.”
Spinning on my heels, I flung the door open and jogged down the driveway the coward I knew I wasn’t. It was just…Davian.
“Go on, run to Chad, the big bad bully,” he called after me. “But let him know I’m not a pushover anymore. He screwed up my life once. I won’t let him do it again.”
Chancing a glance over my shoulder, I saw he was standing in the doorway, shoulder propped against the jamb, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest. Fearless.
“He forced me away from you—my family—in the past. This time around, he’ll have to murder me to keep me from Jacob. I lost you. I will not lose my son.”
CHAPTER FIVE
XAVIER WASN’T AT THE PENTHOUSE WHEN I got back. Neither was he picking up when I rang him. Please, God, don’t let him be pissed at me. I really need him right now. To hold me. So bad.
Racing back out of the apartment and down to the garage, I jumped in my convertible and peeled out for the villa.
Xavier. I needed him. More than I needed my last breath. I should have listened to him. Because Davian, I had no idea what was going on with him. One minute he was laughing and dancing, flirting with me, all over me, and the next minute he was looking at me with revenge in his eyes, so close to resentment.