Ice Steam (Loving All Wrong #3)

by S. Ann Cole

  Same blue eyes,

  Same wicked smile,

  New southern bride,

  Still the same child.

  Is he yours?

  Or is he hers?

  -A

  Below that, were photos. One of a pregnant me sitting on a sofa watching television, one of Dave Hamilton holding and grinning at Jacob, and an extreme close-up shot of Jacob, which was practically Davian in toddler form.

  The photo with Dave Hamilton was new, I’d never seen it before. But the photo of me pregnant, and the close-up of Jacob were all personal photos that were supposed to be locked up in my room back in San Francisco. I couldn’t understand how someone could’ve gotten a hold of those. Saskia needed to know of this.

  Pushing Jessica’s phone away from my face, I asked, “Who’s A?”

  “I don’t know,” she said in a strained voice. “I’ve been getting a bunch of texts from this A since the first time you had dinner with us. I figured someone was just bored and obsessed with Pretty Little Liars, so I refused to play along and deleted them. This is the first one that’s made any sense at all, and that’s because of the images. Now I’m realizing this A person has been trying to tell me something all along.”

  Tears were etching down her face now, and I wanted to feel bad, feel guilt, remorse, but I felt…nothing.

  “Yes,” I admitted, “the boy in the pictures is my son.”

  “And…and you don’t deny Davi is his father?”

  “My son’s name is Jacob Hamilton.”

  She broke, covering her mouth and sobbing in her hand. “I always…I always knew there was more between you two than he let on. Ever since you showed up, he’s been different. Distracted. More and more reluctant to pick a wedding date. The overly pretentious affection he shows me whenever you’re around, always kissing me and touching me and telling me he loves me, as if he’s trying to convince someone of this. How angry he gets every time I suggest a threesome with you—he never turns down a threesome!”

  “Wait, you think Xavi would’ve just let me do a threesome with you and your man?”

  “Of course. I asked him.”

  What the what? “And…?”

  “He shrugged and said ‘whatever’.”

  Was she being serious, or just lying to piss me off?

  Jessica sniffled. “Now it’s all starting to make sense. You and Davi had a child together and he li—”

  “Whoa there,” I cut her off. “Let’s not get carried away here. Davi doesn’t know about Jacob.”

  She stiffened, wet green eyes stretching wide. “Excuse me?”

  “He doesn’t know,” I repeated. “And I don’t plan on telling him.”

  With the back of her hand, she wiped her snotty, red nose. “How can you even…how can you do something like that?”

  “You mean raise a child on my own?” I shot back. “Let’s see, I went out on a limb to get him, your fiancé, signed to your daddy’s label. He left to go on tour, met you, and forgot I existed. I’m left to raise my child on my own. That’s how.”

  “Oh, God,” she groaned, daintily holding her stomach. “How can you be so…so cruel to keep this from him? That’s his son!”

  “No, that’s my son. I carried him for nine months. I pushed him out. Davi’s just a sperm donor. My son is fine and dandy without him. Jacob doesn’t need his support, alright?” I stepped into her space. “And here’s why we are gonna keep it from him: You want to marry Davi, and I want to be with Xavi. You throw in this baby bombshell, and you know what’s gonna happen? Davi’s going to choose me, because we have a bond, a soul to soul connection that you can’t even begin to imagine. And he knows, unerringly, who I’ll choose.”

  “You—you love him?”

  “I never stopped.” I held up my tattooed wrist. “This looks familiar?”

  She studied the tattoo for a moment, and I saw the second she pieced it together. “You’re her, aren’t you? You’re the girl. The girl he used to drink himself into oblivion over every night when I first met him. The girl he used to beat himself up about because he ‘let her down’. The girl I had to make him forget about.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Something dawned on her, her grimace morphing into a revelatory expression. “Does Xavi know?”

  “He knows I have a son, but he doesn’t know Davi’s the father.”

  She laughed. Actually laughed at me.

  “Oh, you do not know Xavi,” she muttered more to herself than to me. She no longer seemed devastated, but rather eager for more information to cement whatever conclusion she’d come to. “You do realize that it doesn’t take more than a glance at your son to see the stark resemblance, right?”

  “He hasn’t seen him yet,” I snapped out. “And I’ll worry about that bridge when it’s time to cross it.”

  I turned and started to the Range, but she followed me.

  “I don’t understand one thing. How does Davi’s father know and he doesn’t?”

  “Dave is keeping his mouth shut for the same reason you’ll be keeping yours shut.”

  “Why is that?” She was still following me.

  “You love him,” I said, stopping and turning to face her. “And you care what a discovery like this—at least the twisted version that I’ll tell—would do to his reputation and to your impending marriage.”

  As she stood there and thought about this, I turned and continued walking.

  “What if A sent this message to Xavi, too, Alina?”

  “He gives a shit, or he doesn’t.”

  I was almost close to the Range when she called out, “He’ll never love you, you know.”

  I should have asked her which rocker she was referring to, but instead I asked, “And how are you so sure of this?”

  Her lips curved up into a terrifying smile, a smile that said she had one up on me, a smile that said the winner of this game would not be me, but her.

  “Because he’s obsessively hung up on someone else. And that’s the real reason you’re here.”

  Xena didn’t question me when I finally climbed into the back of the Range, but I knew her antennas were up. Either she was waiting for me to tell her what my chat with Jessica was about, or intended on investigating herself.

  I offered her nothing, and instead told Mel to swing by Danni’s apartment.

  Although he hadn’t been answering my calls for the past two days for whatever reason, I bought him a gold-buckle belt at Hermes and wanted to drop it off for him, then curse him out for leaving me to pick a dress on my own.

  I liked buying nice things for people. Giving was one of my very few hobbies. If I liked someone, I would splurge on some of the finest things for them. I couldn’t recall ever going shopping and not buy something for someone else.

  Danni lived in a luxury studio apartment in an upscale community that charged an arm and a leg in rent for the smallest of spaces.

  Xena insisted on coming up with me even though I told her I would just be a minute. So, together, we navigated to his apartment on the second floor and pounded on the door.

  It took a full sixty seconds, or more, before Danni swung the door open, in nothing but boxer briefs, hair ruffled, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat.

  His eyes blew wide when he saw us.

  “Damn, boy,” Xena said, followed by a wolf-whistle. “You’ve got a fantastic package. Why’d you have to be gay?”

  “Alina! Xena!” Danni said out loud, too loud, considering we were right in front of him. “What are you doing here?!”

  “Are you high or something?” Xena asked through a laugh. “Dial it down a bit.”

  Narrowing my gaze, I studied Danni’s disheveled appearance. He looked like he’d been in the middle of steamy little romp. Nothing wrong with that. But it was his panicked expression and awkward bellowing of our names which had me drawing the conclusion that this romp was with someone we knew.

  Secrets, secrets
. Lies, lies. That’s all Los Angeles was about.

  With a mischievous grin, I thrust the Hermes bag to him and forced my way into the apartment. “Saw this and thought of you, so I bought it. For you, butt-poker.”

  He cast a brief glance at the bag, then back to me. “That’s nice of you, Alina, but I—”

  Xena barged in next. “Jesus, this place reeks of sex. Were you sucking your own dick or something?”

  “Guys, really, now is not a good—”

  “Can I use your bathroom?” I asked, after scanning the sleek apartment and finding the kind of mess that only hot, rough sex would make—rumpled sheets and clothes scattered across floor, including a pair of cherry-red Doc Martens that definitely weren’t Danni’s.

  In a studio apartment, there were no other rooms for someone to hide except the bathroom.

  I didn’t wait for Danni to respond, I made a beeline for the door on the right, while Xena poked around the kitchen area.

  “Alina, no, don’t go in—”

  I pushed open the door, and there, frenziedly dragging on his jeans, was Leo.

  I knew it!

  He froze, about to freak out, to start “explaining”. But I made a slow shake of my head to indicate he keep quiet, then I looked over my shoulder and gave Danni a ‘shh’ signal, while Xena rummaged through his refrigerator and bitched about his “tiny” place.

  Letting out a relieved sigh, Danni nodded and I stepped into the bathroom with Leo, closing the door behind me.

  He moved a step back in the small space, watching me warily.

  Closing in on him, till my breasts were pressed against his taut chest, I reached down between us and slowly zipped up his jeans for him, then buttoned it, before asking in a breathy whisper, “Who’s A?”

  Leo’s confusion at the question was veritable. “Huh?”

  “Listen, the last thing you want right now is big-mouth Xena getting wind of this,” I told him. “Tell me who’s A, and your secret’s safe with me.”

  As if making an oath in court, his hand went up. “I swear to God, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  I studied him, searching for some hint he was lying. But he looked truly terrified, face red with embarrassment, and I actually felt sad for him. Sad that he couldn’t come out to the world because he was so afraid of what people would think of him.

  “Danni told you he’s faking as Xena’s boyfriend?”

  “No.” He seemed surprised at this revelation. “I thought he was bi.”

  “Nope. Danni’s strictly dickly. And he’s lonely. Always getting screwed over by selfish assholes who don’t have the balls to own up to their sexuality. So treat him good. Say nothing, and I’ll say nothing.”

  His eyes bugged. “You think I’d say something after…” He made a wild gesture with his hands to indicate the whole awkward run-in.

  I laughed, because it was, indeed, laughable.

  Leo’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and I turned to leave the room, pausing at the door for a minute to warn, “It goes without saying that if I find out you’re a part of this A shenanigan, I’m telling.”

  Xena was still in the kitchen digging into a huge tub of Ben & Jerry’s chocolate ice-cream, as if she hadn’t eaten for months.

  “There was a huge rodent in the bathroom. Let’s split this infested match box,” I called to her with mock disgust. “I don’t know how you can even eat here. This place reeks of cum and asshole.”

  Mouth full of calories, Xena nodded in agreement, then skipped out the door, letting Danni know she was stealing his ice-cream.

  “Thank you,” Danni mouthed as I headed out behind Xena.

  “Call the exterminator,” I said. “’Cause that’s one big ass rodent problem you got on your hands.”

  By the time we got to Beach Rock, Xena had devoured every last drop of the ice-cream, staring down into the empty tub as though she expected more to magically appear.

  “Is this your first time eating ice-cream, or are you just going through a phase?” I asked her as we walked up the steps to the house.

  She groaned. “I was trying that whole diet thing like you. Suffice it to say, it’s not working out so well for me. I feel hungry more than ever. All the time.”

  I cracked up.

  “Don’t laugh,” she pouted, keying open the door. “Your waist is so tiny and your stomach is so flat and your arms and legs are so toned. I’m jealous! There, I said it!”

  “Trust me, Xena, I diet and exercise not because I care how small my waist is,” I informed her, “but because my contract demands I do. Take it from me, it’s torture. But it takes discipline and control. And caving at the first glimpse of ice-cream is not control.”

  “Boo!” she sang, dumping her shopping bags on the first piece of furniture she saw, then headed straight for the kitchen.

  Laughing at her ravenous condition, I dumped my shopping bags, too, then mounted the stairs and navigated to Xavier’s room.

  His door was closed, which was weird, because he never closed it unless I was there. As a matter of fact, none of the men in that house kept their doors closed.

  I swiveled to the direction of Tex’s room to prove my point: his door was half-opened. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him singing, “She walks, she talks, like rock ‘n’ roll. Black eyes scream death, reflecting her soul. Run tall, don’t fall, her heart is Sheol…”

  Wherever he was in his room, he could see me. He was a sick, creepy dude.

  I flipped my middle finger at his room, swiveling back around to open Xavier’s door.

  I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have knocked. Or called. Or stayed out shopping a little bit longer. Or went food hunting in the kitchen with Xena. Or went into Tex’s room instead and sang along with him. Anything, anything at all, but opening that goddamn door.

  With just the turn of a knob, the creak of hinges, the ground beneath me turned to sinking sand, and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper, going under.

  “Shit!”

  That was from Xavier.

  Xavier, my “official boyfriend”, was standing at the side of his bed in nothing but a towel around his waist, looking down at a very naked, very voluptuous brunette who had a blindfold eye-mask hanging around her neck instead of her eyes, and her fingers plunged deep inside herself as she writhed on his bed.

  Suddenly, he was leaping over the bed, over the brunette, to get to me. His mouth was moving, he was speaking, but I heard nothing at all but the loud, echoing beat of my heart, thumping, thumping, thumping.

  He was in front of me now, and those hands, those hands I loved so much, gripped my shoulders and shook. Shook. Shook me right out of the shock.

  “….is the truth, Chino.” My sense of hearing was returning, slowly. “…ease…please tell me…believe me.”

  My head turned from one side to the next, peering down at his hands gripping my shoulders. Then I looked up at him. He was wet. His hair, eyelashes and glowing, olive skin was wet. Steel-gray eyes panicked, anxious.

  Beautiful. So damn beautiful, this man. I loved that beauty. Was obsessed with it. I loved him. I was in love with him. I wondered if he knew. Wondered if he knew I’d fallen in love with him.

  “Did you know?” I whispered. “Did you know I was falling in love with you?”

  “Chi—”

  “Did you know that every kiss, every touch, every smile from you chipped off a piece of the ice around my heart? Did you know your heat, your steam, is what’s been keeping the cold box I live in warm enough to make space for you?”

  As the shock wore off, rage settled in, and I pushed at his chest, but he didn’t even budge. “Did you know I chose you?!” I chucked him again, and he pitied my efforts by taking a step back. “Did you?!” Push. “Did you know, asshole?!” Push. “Did. You. Know?!”

  When my wrists began hurting from trying to move a man who was as immovable as a tree trunk, I spun to leave the room and fo
und Mark and Xena standing in the doorway, not surprised by the scene, but rather disappointed.

  “Oh shit, man,” muttered Mark. “Your ass is grass.”

  “Chino—” Xavier began, chasing after me.

  Whirling on him, I jabbed a finger to his chest. “Don’t you dare follow me, you disgusting piece of shit!” I gestured to the naked brunette on the bed, who seemed whet from all the trouble she’s caused. Bet it made her feel important. “You’re free to carry on being a rock star, Xavier Xander.”

  Burrowing past Mark and Xena, I braked up when my eyes landed on Tex, who was leaning on his doorjamb, with a cigarette burning between his fingers as he serenely sang, “She walks, she talks, like rock ‘n’ roll. Black eyes scream death, reflecting her soul. Run tall, don’t fall, her heart is Sheol…”

  I marched up to him, plucked the cigarette from his fingers, tipped up so my lips were inches away from his, and hissed, “You’ve got your wish now, A.”

  He was expressionless, showing no signs of confusion, surprise, or knowledge. He just blinked lazily, opened his mouth, and began singing again.

  Exasperated, I flicked the lit cigarette over his shoulder so it landed on his bed, and then I turned and stormed out, wishing the sheets would catch fire and burn Beach Rock down.

  It wasn’t until I was in the back of Mel’s Range that my cellphone buzzed with a text message:

  A triangle or a square?

  Wrong! It’s a sphere,

  Round & round the story goes,

  Who’s playing who?

  No one seems to know.

  You thought this was your game,

  Thought it was all about you,

  Smile for the camera, Bitch,

  The game is playing YOU.

  -A

  I didn’t remember the ride home. I didn’t remember riding the elevator up to my apartment, running a bath and slinking into the tub.

  Finding out Xavier was screwing around on me wasn’t what had me in such a stupor. He was a rock star, that’s the kind of thing to expect when you decide to date a rock star, especially one who was, pre-me, notorious for being the slut of the band. If you didn’t know how to forgive a man for messing up, then you had no business dating a rocker. They don’t just change overnight. It takes them a while to get it right. And if you wanted to be the girl who holds them down in the end, then you needed to understand the life, hold on, and hold out.