Off Her Rockers (Loving All Wrong #3.5)

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Off Her Rockers (Loving All Wrong #3.5) Page 16

by S. Ann Cole


  “You expect me to take a bite of éclair while talking about, um, that?”

  “Suit yourself.” He shrugged and began directing the delicacy to his mouth, but my hand quickly shot out to stop his, then re-directed it to mine and took a bite.

  I moaned as the creamy, chocolaty sweetness melted on my tongue.

  “I swear to God,” I appreciatively sighed out, holding onto his hand so I could take another bite, “sometimes éclairs are better than orgasms.”

  Xavier frowned, and then scowled at the treat. In the next instant, he yanked his hand with the half-eaten treat away, dumped it back in the box, closed it, and shoved it aside.

  I let out a sound of protest and made to reach for the box, but he slapped my hand. “No. From now on, you’re not allowed to taste anything better than an orgasm.”

  I blinked at him, wondering if he was serious, when I realized he truly was, I burst out laughing. “You’re jealous of an éclair?”

  Ignoring that, he lifted the lid on the second box. Inside, were two fancy plastic containers with melting chocolate cakes.

  “Mhhhhhhhhhmm,” I hummed in anticipation.

  He unwrapped two plastic forks and we both dug in.

  Watching me closely, a forkful of dripping cake heading toward his mouth, Xavier asked, “What about this?”

  Fork descending from my mouth, I looked at him. No way was I going to let him take this away from me, so I lied, “Good. But, nah. Not that good.”

  The look he gave me told me he didn’t buy it, but at least he wasn’t taking the cake away. We devoured our melting cakes then sucked the remnants off each other’s tongues. Which extended into a fifteen minute kissing session.

  The third box had—yay!—macaroons. As I picked up the first yellow macaroon and bit into it, I commented through a full mouth, “Dude, you’re like the best boyfriend ever.”

  Rocking back on his elbows, not at all interested in the final treat, he licked me off his lips. “I know, right?”

  I giggled, so damn happy and giddy I felt like ten again. “Modest much?”

  Without words, he watched me for a long moment as I made my way through three more macaroons, ignoring the “Full. No more!” warning my stomach was giving off.

  “Wrote a song about you, you know,” he finally said.

  “A song?” I tried to smother a smile. “Not to be mean, but, you cannot sing. Your rendition of Amnesia the other night was horrendous.”

  Xavier—yes Xavier Xander—actually rolled his eyes. “Whatevs. You know you creamed them panties listening to me sing. Don’t lie to yourself.”

  Flopping back on the blanket, I let the laughter roll through me. “Okay, mister. Live in denial all you want.” I turned on my side. “So, are you gonna let me hear it?”

  “Hmm. Wanna wet your panties again?”

  “Oh, Xavi, Xavi,” I leaned up and curled my fingers around the back of his neck, “don’t you know I can cum just by looking at you?” I kissed him. He kissed me back. “You affect me in ways I’ve never been before.” Our lips fused again, and this time we got handsy, spurts of arousal getting us worked up. Just as we hit third base, I pulled away and moved back to lying on my side. “Now, are you gonna sing me the song or what?”

  He seemed a little uncertain at first, but then he pushed to his feet and padded off to my bedroom. A few minutes later, he returned with the custom-made guitar I’d given him the night I chose him over Davian. He kept it on the top shelf in my closet, I wasn’t sure why.

  He lowered down on the blanket once again, sat cross-legged, and began tuning.

  Dropping his head and hiding his eyes, he mumbled with soft agony, “Not a love song. Chino. Sorry.”

  This sobered me, and my mouth opened but nothing came out. If it wasn’t a love-song, then what kind of song was it? Swallowing, I shifted from my side to supine. If I was going to be lyrically attacked, I might as well take it lying down.

  His intro was wild. The Jack White kind of wild. It wasn’t soothing, seducing, or mellow. It was angry, and wild, and goddamn beautiful.

  His voice, when it came, was deep, and gruff:

  She got a gun-shaped heart

  I been ruined from the start

  Shoulda whipped her, collared her

  Had I been smart

  ‘Stead I licked her, swallowed her

  Gave her every part

  Now she owns ‘em all

  She done knew I woulda fall

  Why don’t you run, boy?

  Why don’t you flee?

  Why do you chase her?

  Should be glad you’re free

  Run, boy, run

  Love ain’t never taste this bitter

  Run, boy, run

  That truth you’ll feel it later

  She got a bullet-shaped love

  Lethal, explosive

  All them things I thought were fun

  Shoulda never cared,

  Wasn’t that the plan?

  But, oh, she had me scared

  Had to be a man

  Too damn weak my heart was

  Impacted, imploded

  From that bullet-shaped love

  That gun-shaped heart

  From that bullet-shaped love

  That gun-shaped heart

  He carried on with extended guitar play, but I’d already turned my face away from him and closed my eyes. Hiding the tear that squeezed from the corner. That’s how he felt about me? Then why was he here? We’d been doing so well sorting out our differences. We’d been back to being Xavina. Why had I gone and opened up my big mouth, asking that he played his stupid song?

  I couldn’t be with him knowing this was how he felt. Knowing he believed everything about me brought pain. I couldn’t—

  Boy can’t run now

  Boy can’t flee

  Boy’s in deep now

  No chance of being free

  Stayin’, yeah, I’m stayin’

  Pain ain’t never been this sweet

  Staying, yeah, I’m staying

  My future I’ve already meet

  That was the real ending to the song. Not the bullet-shaped bullshit. I never waited. I’d already given up. Never gave him the chance to have his last bar.

  Slowly, I turned my face to him again. Remorse filled his eyes as he watched me. The defeated expression that settled when he saw my face told me my pain at his lyrics were refulgent, but I was no longer sad, because he said he was staying. In spite of it all…

  He was staying.

  Setting the guitar aside, he crawled up beside me, locked one of his long, hairy legs around both of mine, and laid his head in my bosom. “I’m sorry, Chino.”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t have the will to. The strength.

  Instead, I closed my eyes and let the tears slide.

  Together, wrapped in solemnness, lulled by contrition, we fell asleep.

  If I’d known what reality had in store for us, I would’ve never opened my eyes.

  Taylor Swift’s Shake it Off pierced through the thick, heavy, death-like silence of sleep. From the depths of sleep’s darkness, I noted the ring tone was Xena’s.

  Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and chased away the sleep from them with the heels of my palms. As I stretched across the bed to the nightstand for my phone, I noticed two things: Xavier was missing, and it was 3:09 am.

  Where was Xavier? And why was Xena phoning me this early in the morning?

  Just as I got my hand on the phone, it stopped ringing. Mere seconds later, it started again.

  I answered, “It’s three in the morning. You better be calling me from jail, or the hospital.”

  Silence. And soon a quiet, stifled sobbing. “Hospital.”

  I jerked up in a sitting position, the blood in my veins chilling over, my confused heart unsure what to do in my chest. Panic or relax? “Xena, you know I was joking, right?”

  “Oh, Alina,” Xena sobbed into the phone, “there’s been a terrible accident.”


  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I STORMED THROUGH THE HOSPITAL DOORS, leaving a hoard of news reporters and shuttering cameras outside.

  Xena was pacing at the front desk, waiting for me. Spotting me, she rushed forward and threw herself into my arms, squeezing the breath out of me. Fortunately, I couldn’t feel a thing. I was so numb I could die right now and not even know it.

  “Still nothing?” I managed to ask past the rock-size lump in my throat.

  Stepping back, she held up her hand to show me the gauze on her inner arm. “I just gave blood. He lost a lot. Still hasn’t woken up. They said…”

  I gripped her shoulder. Either out of desperation or for support, I wasn’t sure. “They said what, Xena?”

  “They told me to prepare for the worst… It doesn’t look good for him, Alina.”

  I didn’t know I was falling until Xena caught me, firmly, despite her own weakening devastation. “We have to be strong,” she whispered in my ear. “He needs us to be strong.”

  Digging deep for strength, impossible as it was, I straightened up and forced one foot in front of the other. Arms around each other, we rode the elevator in hazy silence up to the emergency floor.

  I wasn’t surprised to see everyone was already there. Ninety Miles, Ice Steam, Benny…all with somber, tear-stained faces and heads in hands.

  Jessica, however, was missing.

  Davian raised his head, saw me, and immediately pushed away from the wall he was leaning on. He moved in quick, urgent steps toward me, stealing me out of Xena’s arms, and pulling me into his. “Ally.”

  “Where’s Jacob?”

  “With Dad.” He drew back and studied me. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you since the party. Jacob’s been whining nonstop for you. I wanted you to come spend a few hours with him.”

  Oh, God. I have got to be the shittiest mother on earth. Rubbing my temples, I replied, “Shit. I’m so sorry. Xavi and I were working stuff out.”

  Hands falling from around me, Davian looked at me like I just lanced a spear straight through his heart. “Working stuff out?”

  Not at all in the mood to deal with his stupid jealousy, I wrapped my arms around myself and snapped, “Yes, Davi. Working stuff out.”

  From the corners of my eyes, I could see everyone staring at us.

  Xena asked through a hoarse voice laced with bewilderment, “Wait, so you and Xavi are back together?”

  To no one in particular, I nodded.

  Davian shook his head at me, and it wasn’t jealousy that I saw, but disappointment. “Lemme ask you this: If you and Xavi are ‘back together’, what do you suppose he was doing with—”

  “Mr. Benjamin Stucco?”

  All eyes swung to a skinny, bespectacled Indian man in a white lab coat with a clipboard in hand, waiting expectantly.

  “Here,” an ashen Benny answered, stepping forward. “My daughter okay?”

  His daughter? Jessica?

  “Mr. Stucco, I’m Doctor Beharry. Please, come with me for a—”

  “No,” Benny clipped impatiently. “Talk. We’re all family here.”

  Dr. Beharry glanced around at us, uncertain, but he nodded and continued. “Miss Stucco is awake. There is both good news and bad news.”

  “Good news first.”

  “The good news is, Miss Stucco has suffered no critical damages. A broken finger, some fractured ribs and minor cuts and bruises. We are keeping her overnight to run some more tests. If all is well with the results—which I am sure it will be—she will be released tomorrow. At the moment, she is on sedatives. You are permitted to see her once she is awake.”

  “Oh, thank God. Thank God.” Inhaling deeply, Benny turned his watery green eyes up to the ceiling. He swept a hand down his face before turning back to the doctor. “Then what’s the bad news?”

  Giving Benny a commiserating downturn of his lips, Dr. Beharry dropped the news that was indeed bad. In more ways than one. “She lost the baby.”

  Benny, along with everyone else, wore shocked, mouth-gaping expressions.

  “She was pregnant?”

  “Oh. You didn’t know. Well, this is a family matter. So I’ll just…” He paused. Sighed. “Your daughter is extremely lucky to have made it out of that wreck alive, Mr. Stucco.”

  As he began walking away, Tex shoved forward and gripped his arm, stopping him. “Yo, what of the driver? Why the shit won’t anyone tell us anything?”

  With a disapproving scowl, Dr. Beharry jerked his arm from Tex’s grip. “I do not have the information you seek, sir. Please be patient. And pray. A lot.”

  “Nice showing you give a shit, Benny,” Tex bit out as the doctor strode off down the hall.

  “Give a shit?” Benny shot caustically, glaring back at Tex. “I don’t. That’s the damn point. If that shithead is still alive, I’m done with him. Done. I warned Jess to stay as far away as possible from that alcoholic train-wreck! What was she doing in a car with him? And look. I bet you any amount he was blind drunk. He could’ve killed her! He could’ve killed my daughter! So no, I don’t give a shit if he lives or dies.”

  Shouldering past Tex, he walked right up to Davian and punched him in the face. “And you. You knocked up my daughter and then left her for some fame-hungry whore?!”

  As Davian staggered backward, holding his jaw, Jake pushed forward and smashed his fist into the side of Benny’s face. “Careful how you talk about Ally, asshole. Jess can only dream of walking in my Ally’s shoes. Remember that.”

  At that, I turned on my heels and walked away from the drama, wrapping my arms tighter around myself.

  I felt like I was in a dream. Nothing made sense. I couldn’t fathom how Xavier went from being in my bed to being in a car crash with Jessica. He left to go see her without telling me. Why?

  Jessica told me they were on the outs. So, why?

  I replayed the last forty-eight hours in my head. We’d been good. Really good. We’d been “Xavi and Ally” again. So how did we go from floating in the clouds to this—buried under smoke and debris?

  “Alina!” The voice, accompanied by clacking heels, belonged to Xena, but I didn’t stop walking. I couldn’t.

  The confused looks I’d gotten when I announced Xavier and I were back together made sense now. Of course, they’d all been wondering the same thing: If Xavier was holed up with me, “working things out” then what was he doing with Jessica in the wee hours of the morning?

  Xena caught up with me. I kept walking. She kept in stride.

  “Alina, slow down. Where are you going?”

  “What was he doing with her?”

  A sigh. “I don’t know.”

  “You knew she was pregnant?”

  “I suspected. She’s been super moody and indecisive. One minute she loves Xavi, the next minute she loves Davi. One minute she likes you, the next minute she’s saying you deserve to suffer for ruining her life. She’s been dressing differently, in loose clothing— and we all know that girl loves her short, flirty dresses. Blazer jackets and shapeless tops? Dead giveaway.”

  Well, that explained the desperation in her voice when she was begging Davian to take her back. Willing to settle even when he told her she would be second to me.

  “Alina.” Xena wrapped her fingers tight around my upper arm, forcing me to stop and look at her. “Xavi and Jess are close friends. It could’ve been anything. She calls him for shit in the middle of the night all the time, and he does the same. Davian was just being a dick back there.”

  “He was in my bed, Xena,” I hissed at her. “My bed. He could’ve told me he was leaving. Leave a note. Something. Not just leave to go to his ex when we were in the middle of sorting our shit out.”

  Releasing her grip on my arm, she placed her palms on my shoulder and stared into my eyes. “Xavier might not survive this accident, Alina. When doctors are this tight-lipped, it’s usually because they have nothing good to tell us and the last thing they want to do is get our hopes up. What
if Xavi dies? Is this how you want the last moments to be? You hating him because he left without waking you?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Second, you’re supposed to be my best friend. You got my hopes up and let me believe I finally had a friend.”

  I frowned. “I am your friend.”

  “Well, you’re not acting like one right now. You’re being selfish. Just like you always do. Always make everything about you. We’re all here. Even Davi, who I thought for sure would’ve been jumping for joy. We’re all waiting for just a smidge of good news, and you just made this all about you. In typical Alina fashion.”

  Jesus. I’m still horrible. Therapy has done absolutely nothing to help.

  “Jake just punched his manager in the face for you. That’s how much we love you.” Her hands moved from my shoulders to cup my face. “I need you to be my friend right now, Alina.”

  I stared back into her eyes. The exact steel-gray as Xavier’s. Eyes I might never see again. Because…he might die. He might die.

  “Can you be that for me, Alina?”

  My hands shook from fear, and I balled them into fists to control the shaking. “Only if you promise me he’ll be okay.”

  With an unconvincing smile, she drew me in for a tight hug. “He’ll be okay. I promise.”

  “Alina.”

  Someone was rocking me awake.

  Xena. The voice belonged to Xena.

  I opened my eyes to find her looming over me, eyes bloodshot and puffy. As I tried to straighten up in the hard and uncomfortable hospital chair, pain sprinted up my spine. Damn hospital waiting rooms to hell. I decided to give it a few minutes before attempting to move again.

  The sun had risen in all its scintillating glory, filling the hospital halls with natural light. I glanced around, taking note that everyone, except Benny, was still there. Some slumped awkwardly in sleep, and others looking as wrecked and demolished as Xena. There were also new bodies. Bulky, intimidating cop bodies. Guarding off the hall.

 

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