Off Her Rockers (Loving All Wrong #3.5)

by S. Ann Cole

  On my way to the powder room, mumblings of Jessica and Davian traveling from the kitchen had me stopping short.

  “…in love with her.”

  “I know that. I’ve always known that and we made it work. We made it work until you made her use you. She wanted to prove a point and you gave her that power. What other proof do you need to get she doesn’t love you like I do? That she’s never going choose you? Forgive me and I’ll forgive you. ”

  Nothing came from Davian for a stretching moment, and then, “You’re a good woman, Jess. Any guy will be lucky to have you, but you deserve someone who’ll love you like I love her. I do love and miss you sometimes, but if I get back with you, and in the future she decides she does want me and asks me to leave you, I will leave you, Jess. Because I’ll never stop wanting her.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Why would you want to settle for that?”

  “Because I’m in love with you!”—I could hear the tears in her voice now—“Don’t you get it? I don’t care that I’ll have to share your heart with her. I want you. In any capacity I can have you. Half or a quarter of you…Davi, I don’t care. I’ve tried a million ways to imagine my life without you and I just can’t. Every picture has you in it. Davi, I can’t function without you. Tell me you’ll come back. Please.”

  I backed off before Davian responded. I didn’t want to hear it. I had no right to be jealous, so why was I? So what if Jessica and Davian got back together. Did it matter?

  Barring her sexual proclivities, Jessica was undeniably a good woman—even I had to admit that. I had no doubt she would be a good influence in Jacob’s life, but not because I was fighting Davian’s advances did it mean I no longer loved or was attracted to him.

  Davian would always be my first everything, I would always love him, and, therefore, I would always be jealous of him. It was human nature.

  In the powder room, I cleaned up the mascara mess around my eyes and gazed at myself in the mirror. There were times when I would look at myself in the mirror and it would feel as though I hadn’t seen me in a long, long time. There were times when I looked new and different. There were times when my own beauty surprised me. There were times, like now, when I couldn’t see a reflection. Saw nothing but emptiness. A blank space. Couldn’t tell what I looked like, who I resembled. Because on the other side of the mirror, there was no one.

  It was terrifying.

  I bumped into Davian on my way out, Jacob fast asleep on his shoulder.

  Reaching out with his free hand, he cupped my neck tenderly, solicitously. “Feeling better?”

  He was referring to my “not feeling so well” mood.

  “A little. The headache’s gone, at least.”

  “You want me to wrap up the party so you can get some rest?” he asked. “Jacob’s wiped already anyway, so it’s no big deal.”

  “No, no, you don’t have to do that,” I assured him. “It’s your first time having anyone over since you bought the house, so just go ahead and make it a house-warming party, too. I can take Jacob to his room.”

  As I pried Jacob from him, he eyed me closely. “And you’re sure you’re okay?”

  I forced an eye-roll. “I’m fine, rock star. Go on. Have fun. Drink a beer. You’ve been Mr. Attentive Dad all week.”

  I spun and beelined for the stairs before he could question me further. Davian knew me. Well enough to be able to tell when something was up with me, and when I was lying about it. He knew I wasn’t okay, but I was positive he wouldn’t want to know why.

  I tried to clean up our birthday boy as best as I could without waking him. His face was a sticky mess of chocolate ice cream and something…orange? No idea what that was.

  Once he was all-clean, I set him down in his crib, kissed his pudgy little fingers, and took a seat in the armchair next to the crib. I didn’t feel like going back downstairs, wishing I could just climb into Jacob’s crib with him and pull his blanket over my head.

  Clamor and cheers snuck in through the windows from downstairs. Afraid the noise would wake Jacob, I got up and went to shut the window. As the window overlooked the backyard, I could see the happenings below. Everyone had gathered at the bar now, watching the flat screen.

  The majority of the guests downstairs were in Ninety Miles’ circle, yet a party just couldn’t go on while an unplugged Ninety Miles show was airing live worldwide. Ninety Miles was that powerful.

  Didn’t matter if you hated or loved that band, when they played, even God stopped running the world to watch.

  Stomping down my stubborn will, I padded back to the armchair and picked up the remote. Powered on the television and scanned for the channel they were on.

  Tex was sitting on a stool, crooning the acoustic version to one of their old hits. A soulful expression on his face, eyes squeezed shut, intense veins bulging from his neck, long, jet-back hair hanging down the sides of his face. Rock star extraordinaire; that was Tex Laklin.

  Xavier was on the left of Tex, also on a stool with his legs thrown out in front of him, head hung down as his skillful fingers nonchalantly worked their magic.

  He was wearing a white T-shirt with bold blue text that read “I WOULD CUDDLE YOU SO HARD”.

  I stifled a smile, unsure of what to make of that shirt. It just wasn’t something Xavier would wear. Jake? Definitely. But Xavier? Nah.

  For a good chunk of time, I sat relishing their performance, sometimes singing along. Even went to get a glass of orange juice and hurried back. Completely enraptured.

  Just as the band was wrapping up with an upbeat song, Xavier tapped his mike and muttered something into it, drawing quizzical looks from the other band members.

  “Before…before we close out, I’d like…I’d like to, ah…”

  With a thunderous expression, Tex pushed up from his stool and began moving over to Xavier.

  “Wait, shout out to ah…shit, what’s their name again?” Covering the mike with his palm, Xavier twisted to look at Leo, positioned farther behind him, and asked him something. Leo replied with a concerned crease of his forehead, and Xavier twisted back around and continued, “Yeah, 5 Seconds of Summer. Don’t know you all on any level, but I’ve been listening to this song of yours on a loop of late, and I, ah, just wanna dedicate it to…her. Yeah. Whoever you think ‘her’ is, it’s her.”

  I stiffened in the armchair, heart racing. Was Xena positive Xavier stayed sober for this show? Because he didn’t seem sober. Not in the least.

  He commenced strumming his guitar.

  Tex got there to him and leaned in to whisper something, but Xavier waved him off, mumbling something in an adamant rumble. All I made out over the mike was “only way she’ll hear me.”

  Tex backed off, still pissed as all get out, and Xavier resumed the musical intro.

  I immediately identified the song. Amnesia.

  A few seconds in, Mark and Leo chipped in, and Xavier threw a half-grin over his shoulder at them.

  Mark shrugged and grinned back.

  Leo shook his head as if to say this was ludicrous, biting his lip to hide his own smile.

  Tex was the only one not on board. He just stood there. Seething.

  When Xavier realized Tex, the man with the voice, wasn’t going to chip in, he took matters into his own hands and began singing.

  Which was…bad. Because Xavier couldn’t sing to save his life. He was way off. His voice was too deep and just wasn’t music friendly. Regardless, he sang those words as if his life depended on it.

  Soon enough, Tex burst out laughing and went back to his mike. Mark and Leo were at the back struggling to keep it together, their faces contorted with suppressed laughter.

  As Xavier hit the second verse, Tex decided to join in. But Xavier was too far gone, lost in the music, eyes closed as he bellowed out the lyrics, seemingly unaware of, or just didn’t care, how off he sounded.

  To even it out, Leo and Mark joined in, and they all sang with unbridled grins on their faces. Eve
n Tex.

  By the time they got to a discordant culmination, I was both crying and laughing so hard the muscles in my face hurt. Unsure of what emotion to give into. Cry because Xavier dedicated that beautiful song to me? Or laugh because he was so damn crazystupidcute?

  At the sound of Xena bellowing my name, I quickly switched off the television and went downstairs.

  She was running around like a squawking chicken looking for me with wide eyes and a blinding grin. “Ohmigod, ohmigod! Where have you been?! You missed it! You missed it!”

  I feigned ignorance. “Missed what?”

  “Xavi. He sang for you. And, honey, he cannot sing. I can’t believe you missed it!”

  “Xena, chill. I’m sure it’ll be up on Youtube in like five seconds. I’ll see it then.”

  Jessica walked in then just then, eying me with caution and contrition. “Alina, can I talk to you for a second?”

  Oh, heavens. What now? I slid Xena a questioning look, but she just shrugged and skittered out through the sliding glass doors, abandoning me to Jessica.

  I rubbed my temples with my fingertips, wishing I could tap my heels and disappear. Sometimes the drama became so much it felt like it was pressing me in on every side. “What is it, Jess?”

  Center-part auburn hair flowing down on either side of her face, and small green eyes full of apology, she resembled the Jess I’d come to know and like pre broken engagement. Not the bitchy redhead who shared me a steaming dish of cattiness outside of Xavier’s bar.

  “I’m embarrassed for the person I became after Davi left me. I’d felt so hurt and betrayed, and all that pain morphed into anger. The interview, what I said to you that night…I have no idea who that person was.”

  Eyes avoiding mine, she twisted her fingers together. “I lied. Xavi never touched me. He’s my best friend, he knows me as well as I know him. After you left him and I tried to get with him, he told me he didn’t love me like that and he never would. And then we just laughed about it because…although I used to be obsessed with Xavi at one point…since I met Davi…”—heavy sigh—“I love Davian so much it hurt, Alina. And I knew Xavi would never make me as happy as Davi did.”

  She raised her head, finally meeting my eyes. “He came up with a plan, to speed up the process of finishing his bar and name it after you. He thought if you saw it, you would snap out of your ‘snit’ and come back. Yes, he used the word ‘snit’ because at that point I don’t think he took the break-up seriously.

  “However, when I saw you outside the bar, I got so angry all over again I don’t know what came over me. I sent his plan to shit with my lies. When he found out what I did he cut me off. He hasn’t spoken to me since. And now he’s hitting rock bottom and it’s all my fault.”

  She was close to tears now. “I feel so bad, Alina. Davi has forgiven me, and I’ve forgiven both of you for lying and cheating. I really hope you can forgive me and we can put this behind us.”

  Put it behind us. She made it sound so simple. Wringing her neck seemed a lot simpler.

  On the one hand, I wanted to tell her to go hang herself, but on the other hand, I wanted to have something good to brag about to my silver-haired therapist tomorrow, so she can write me down for showing signs of improvement.

  Releasing the tension and exhaustion from all the hate and grudges in one long sigh, I stepped in and half-heartedly circled my arms around her.

  Jess released a relieving sigh, then tipped up and pressed her lips smack against mine.

  I drew back.

  She smirked.

  Yep, she was back.

  Sure, she was forgiven, but I didn’t trust her. What she didn’t know was that I’d overheard her conversation with Davian in the kitchen earlier. She’d sounded like she resented me. Loathed me with every fiber of her being for the unchanging fact that she would always be second to me in Davian’s life.

  How could I trust her knowing she knew and had to accept that? How could I trust that she wouldn’t set me up for the worst or try to poison me or something?

  Yes, I forgave her, but I would never call her friend.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I WOKE TO A SHRILLING SOUND.

  The receiver.

  A quick glance at the bedside clock told me it was 3:05 am. An ungodly hour for the concierge to be calling me. Unless it was some kind of emergency?

  I stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

  After the birthday party earlier, I’d stuck around to help Davian clean up before heading home. By the time I got in, I was so exhausted I fell instantly asleep.

  I grumbled miserably as the shrill continued, piercing through the AM silence of the apartment.

  “This better be really important,” I growled into the receiver.

  “Miss O’Hara, I apologize profusely for waking you at this hour,” said the concierge, “but there are some residents down here who have been trying to get up to their floors. It appears the elevator is stuck…on your floor. Do you mind checking to see what the problem is?”

  “Hang on a sec.” Setting the receiver down with a yawn, I dragged my feet through the apartment to the entryway.

  All the drowsiness fled and my eyes blew wide at the sight in the elevator. Xavier. Slumped on his ass and passed out with an empty Grey Goose bottle in his lap, back against the back wall, feet spread out—and those thick, long, powerful legs were the culprit preventing the elevator from closing. Each time the doors tried to close, they met resistance with his feet and retreated.

  Padding back to the receiver, I told the concierge through another sigh, “Yeah, the problem is here. I’ll sort it out.”

  “Okay, great! Thank you, Miss O’Hara.”

  I hung up and trekked to the elevator once more. Heaving out yet another sigh, I fixed my hands on my hips and cocked my head, contemplating the most efficient way to get this six-foot-five man out of the elevator so the other residents could use it.

  But seriously, had he been so damn drunk that he couldn’t have taken the two steps it required to get out of the frickin’ elevator?

  Stepping over his legs, I shuffled in and crouched by his side. Even stupefied drunk and unconscious, he was still the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

  Light but firm, I tapped his face. “Xavi.”

  Nothing.

  Tap. Tap. “Xavi, wake up.”

  Nothing.

  I slapped his face, hard, and I winced at the sound that echoed from the impact. All that got me was a mild groan as his body slumped further down the wall.

  He was a consciously dead man. Those eyes wouldn’t be opening until some of that alcohol wore out of his system. I was on my own with this one.

  Once again, I cocked my head and contemplated the situation some more. If I dragged him out by his feet, his head would slam to the ground after losing the support of the wall, and the last thing I wanted was to give this already troubled rock star a concussion.

  I would have to get him away from the wall and to the ground first before attempting to drag him out.

  Removing the liquor bottle from his lap, I set it aside. Locking my arms around his torso, I let out a huff as I shifted him from the wall. Slowly and with great effort, I twisted both our bodies to the left, aiming for ground space to lay him on. Mind you, this took some time, because moving a man Xavier’s size was no walk in the park.

  When I finally had his upper half on the ground, his big body twisted awkwardly to the left, his legs sticking out straight, I stood and blew out a breath, brushing loose locks of hair behind my ears.

  Stepping out of the elevator, I bent at the waist and wrapped my fingers around his ankles, and, after counting to three, I hauled.

  Xavier’s arms flopped to his side, head hung to the left of his shoulders, blond waves mopping the floor as I hauled and hauled until he was completely out.

  As if rejoicing, the elevator doors immediately swooshed closed.

  I dropped Xavier’s feet with a thud and heaved out a ragged
breath. Well, wasn’t that an early morning workout.

  Depleted of energy, I couldn’t be bothered to haul him further into the apartment, so he would be camping out right where he was until he regained consciousness.

  Ambling back to my room, I climbed in bed and tried to fall back asleep, but it wasn’t happening. Not while Xavier was out in my foyer. Not when I was aching for him. Not when every part of me was begging to go out there and stretch out on top of him, bring him back to life like Elijah did with that dead kid in the bible.

  The thing was, we were over, so I was wary of how things would play out when he woke up tomorrow, sober, and found himself in my apartment.

  Though, if I was careful, I could take advantage of his unconscious state and steal one last moment with him. Just for a few hours. If I was mindful not to let his heartbeat lull me to sleep, I could totally steal some time with him.

  Clambering out of bed, I yanked off the comforter, snagged two pillows, and waddled out to the foyer.

  Xavier was the same as I’d left him. Hadn’t moved an inch. Dead to the world.

  I spread the comforter out beside him, and then stuffed one of the pillows under his head as best as I could to prevent any neck pains when he woke up.

  Stretching out on the comforter beside him, I threw my left leg across his hips, propped my chin on his shoulder, and stared. I trailed the tips of my fingers along his sharp jaw line, outlined his lips, smoothed his eyebrows, kissed his Adam’s apple…

  I molested him, worshiped him, got drunk on him, prayed to him…until sleep came knocking again.

  A felicitous smile tugged up my lips as I laid my head on his chest. A few hours. Just a few hours…

  It wasn’t the stinging rays of sunlight penetrating through the apartment windows that woke me, but an urgent, hurrying thought: Get up. Now! Quick before he wakes.

  I was wrapped around Xavier like a vine, his heartbeat uneven, his breathing deep and ponderous.