I watched as one of the C-listers flipped her curls over her shoulder, a move that was copied straight out of a reality television show. The bouncer was apparently impressed by her plunging neckline and let her and her gaggle of fashionistas walk in. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long for Alexander to come out after I texted him, his smile beaming brighter than ever. I could tell that tonight’s excitement was overtaking him, he was in his element. And he sure looked the part too.
He had on a rugged, but expensive looking, leather jacket that hugged his muscular figure like a Brazilian James Dean, the white t-shirt and dark jeans only bolstering the look. He was beyond attractive. At this point, it was almost unfair.
He patted the bouncer on the shoulder and told him something, turning away from the people anxious to get in. The next thing I knew I was being grabbed by Alexander and led past the whispering crowd waiting in line, wondering who I was and why I was being held around my waist by the headlining performer.
“This is crazy,” I said to him as he pushed through two punk models, their edgy haircuts framing their bone structure in just the right way, catching the dark atmosphere of the club and reflecting it back. It was moody inside, the black walls reflecting dim green beams of light.
He craned his neck down and brought his lips dangerously close to my ear. I knew he had done it so that I could hear him better, but the side effects were making me feel warm, jello-like.
“Glad you could make it.” His breath carried over my ear lobe, caressing my neck. I could smell his designer cologne, making me wish I could just bottle him up. Take him out whenever I needed to feel this hot.
“Wouldn’t have missed it,” I said back, my voice raised over the music. I returned his smile, feeling like Alexander could be very dangerous. He had the power to step aside most boundaries, I could already sense it.
“Let’s go to the back room.” He grabbed my hand and lead me past the stage that faced outwards towards the waiting crowd, dancing and talking and drinking amongst themselves now. I bumped into someone, spilling their Long Island onto the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” I called behind me. Alexander hadn’t noticed the mishap so he kept walking, pulling me behind him now. I sped up a bit just as we walked through an onyx black door guarded by a herculean bodyguard. Alexander just tipped his head and the doors opened, revealing a dimly lit dressing room that could have easily passed as a rockstars living room. The couch was a velvety red that melted right into the shape of my figure.
Alexander sunk down next to me, wrapping a hand around my shoulder. I could smell the gin on his lips, the pre-show ritual drink I’m sure he had. I could see how the night was affecting him, it was beginning to affect me in just the same way.
“It’s crazy outside,” I said, able to talk at a more reasonable volume now. I could feel his hand on my shoulder, his muscular forearm giving me a good place to lean my head.
“And the show’s going to get even crazier.” His eyes glowed, the deep blue orbs seemed to have a life of their own. “This is my first sold out show.”
I could see him savor the words, taking them in for possibly the first time. It was like knowing you had won the lottery, but not realizing it, truly realizing it, until the money is in your bank account. That’s only how amazing I could imagine that scenario being.
His hand wrapped around me a little tighter, drawing me closer into him.
“That’s incredible!” My hand found itself on his thigh, feeling the strong muscle underneath his tight jeans. My fingers scratched gently at the fabric, getting lost in this dream, in his eyes, his lips.
Oh no, no. This is going so fast. Am I even ready?
Alexander was going to disarm me completely.
The music playing outside of our secluded rockers paradise drifted in through the bottom of the door. “Do you want anything to drink?” He got up and walked over to a countertop off in the corner, stocked with top shelf liquor and mixers.
“No thanks,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t pressure the situation anymore.
“You sure? I make a mean Zombie.”
Of course he would be able to make one of the strongest drinks around.
“No, I’m ok. Thanks though.” I felt myself melting even further into the couch. I brought my legs up and leaned on the armrest, admiring Alexander’s back as he grabbed a tumbler.
“Shirley Temple then.”
“I’ll take it.” He worked his magic, mixing the drinks with ease and coming back to the couch in probably less than a minute. His arm hung lazily off the other end of the couch, not a care in the world. If he was nervous about tonight’s show, he certainly didn’t show it.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said, taking a sip out of his amber drink, dim red lights around us casting an intoxicating spell all over.
“Thanks,” I managed to say. It was becoming harder and harder trying to put together cohesive sentences. His voice was becoming predatory, as in the hottest predator that ever graced this earth. He rolled back a shoulder and pulled a strong arm out of the sleeve of his leather jacket, the other one following suit. He tossed it on the back of the couch, his white t-shirt highlighting the waves of tone muscle. I couldn’t help but notice his nipples were making themselves quite known.
I brought my legs closer together, feeling a familiar pressure grow between my thighs. An ache that led to thoughtless decisions and unforgettable nights.
“Sky, I mean it.” He brought himself closer, putting a finger under my chin. “I can tell, there’s something about you.” His lips were so close to mine now, parting gently with every word he said, singing me my own private concert. Everything he said was a song, a lyric that was delicately crafted and made to hit just that right emotional chord.
I closed my eyes, losing myself in his commanding presence.
And then I pushed away. I couldn’t do this, not after what happened with Blake. Wouldn’t that just make me a disgusting person? Another girl to strap to a tree and throw down a waterfall?
But Alexander. He looked at me, his eyes questioning what just happened. His jaw so perfectly chiseled, the dim room causing soft shadows to shape him even more.
“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to find it in me. He was so incredibly attractive and seemed like the perfect guy, for all intents and purposes, but I still hadn’t come to terms with this. I needed to find closure within myself before I could let myself open up like that to Alexander. And some twisted part of me, a part I tried to shove deep down in the pits of my psyche, wanted to cling on to some faint hope that maybe Blake would realize that this was his child as much as mine.
My heart drummed in my chest, not knowing what Alexander would do. Thankfully, he didn’t explode or lash out because I was being a prude. Instead, he flashed another one of those heart-melting, nuclear-powered smiles.
“We’ve got time.” His head tilted down, his eyes still trailing over me and finding my eyes.
“Yeah. We do,” I agreed, noticing how he said “time." And he said it so confidently too, as if he knew I wasn’t going anywhere. I looked down, my toes curling a little as I wished we could stay locked up in that room for ages, just getting to know each other.
Too bad that wish was shattered just as a knock came from the door. Alexander got up and opened the door, stepping aside to reveal a sight that sent my heart rate shooting through the roof. I could feel my body clam up and my mouth go sandpaper dry.
Because standing there, framed by the roaming green spotlights, was Blake Evans and his supermodel wife.
CHAPTER NINE
BLAKE WAS JUST AS TAKEN aback by my presence as I was by his. I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but I could tell he was pointing out back to the bar. The wife, who seemed to be completely oblivious to Blake’s plea to runaway, brushed off whatever he was saying and opened her arms to take Alexander into a tight embrace. She looked like the type that would bake shitty brownies and then go take a spin class next to Gwyneth Paltrow.
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Alexander couldn’t say no as she pushed by him and walked straight to the bar, tipping a little on her Louboutins. I could tell she already had a few drinks, and I also noticed how she didn’t even bother with saying hi to me. I realized then how much of a groupie I must have looked like.
I straightened out my dress and got up, not exactly sure where to go but knowing that I couldn’t be trapped inside this room. Blake just looked past me at his drunk wife, pouring herself another Vodka Tonic to down. It hurt for a quick second, an instant, searing stab into my heart that was gone just as fast as it appeared. I was going to deal with the emotional baggage later, right then I needed to just get out.
I was almost to the door when the overdone brunette took notice to me.
“Don’t leave!” she squawked. “We don’t want to ruin a good time,” she slurred a little on the last bit and threw herself on the couch. No wonder this couple was always in the tabloids, if this bitch was always this drunk then they would always have their faces on the covers of magazines. Granted they were the small pictures that were usually bubbles off in the corner, but their names were still broadcasted everywhere.
Everyone knew Blake Evans and Sadie Evans.
Everyone was about to know about Blake Evans, Sadie Evans, and little miss Sky Silvers, if drunk Sadie just so happened to pick up any notion that me and Blake had a previous relationship. The moment she sensed that, I had no doubt she would latch on and most likely detonate, taking out whoever was around and making it clear to the world what happened with her disgusting husband.
I needed to get out.
“No, it’s ok, I was just on my way out,” I said weakly, unable to come up with a strong excuse. What would I have said? Clearly I was there for a reason, and that reason was Alexander. If he was staying then why would I be leaving?
Sadie took notice to that and cocked an eyebrow, twirling her cup dangerously fast in her hand.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been so rude I didn’t even introduce myself.” She got up and strutted her way over to me, locking me in with her hand extended. I couldn’t just walk away from a handshake, so I smiled and returned it, hoping that Sadie would stop being so drunk and just let me go.
“I’m Sadie Evans,” she said, like a pageant princess introducing herself to the panel of judges. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or if that was just how she really spoke, but I couldn’t handle it for long.
“I’m Sky,” I said, not even wanting to give her my last name. The least she knew about me the better. In fact, I was almost starting to regret giving her my first name, which wasn’t all that common in the first place.
“Sit down! You’re here for Alexander’s show right?”
And that was it. That was the net that spooled itself around me, wrapping me tight and reeling me in. There was no way I could leave now after Sadie put me on the spot like that. I couldn’t say anything without looking like a bitch, coming here and then leaving before Alexander’s show. I was originally intending on sneaking out and hanging by the bar, but that was before, when I didn’t have to explain it.
Now I just had to grin and bear it. I snuck a glance towards Alexander who was leaning on the door. I registered a little concern, but he was still the image of cool, the concern only a flash underneath that placid facade. The Brazilian James Dean making his encore appearance. All he needed was a cigarette.
I walked over and sat on the armrest, poised to take flight at the soonest that I could. Or had to.
Blake smiled, that fake television smile he had perfected over the years, as he walked through the door and took his place next to his plastic perfect wife, not before he kindly reintroduced himself to me in front of his wife.
As though we had never met.
I was becoming to feel sick again.
“I had no idea you were coming,” Alexander said, sounding a little confused but veiling it with the excitement that was still coursing through him. Nothing he said now could sound negative.
“Well, you told me you had your show and me and Sadie were in the neighborhood so I decided to stop by.” He glanced over at me. “Didn’t know you had a special guest list.”
“I would have given you the VIP treatment too,” Alexander said, trying to play it off. I still wasn’t sure just how much Alexander knew, but I imagined that it couldn’t be much. Whatever he did know didn’t seem to be affecting him too much. The dim lighting on the room wasn’t alluring anymore. It almost felt dangerous, suffocating.
Alexander took a seat closest to me, not touching me anymore but still staying nearby. I noticed Blake didn’t seem to react at how comfortable Alexander was around me; instead he looked at his Rolex, Sadie pushing her face into Blake’s neck, suckling at his flesh like a drunk puffer fish. I was beginning to feel like the walls were becoming tighter around us, creeping in slowly but surely.
“When do you play?” the pufferfish asked, coming up for air.
“I’m on deck, so pretty soon,” he said, pumping his knees in anticipation.
“Scared? Nervous? Anxious?” Sadie asked them rapid fire, barely taking a breath between questions. Alexander just rolled with the interrogation, knowing that she probably wasn’t even going to remember his answer.
“I’ve got this,” he said, his confidence showing through again. I almost wanted to take my hand and run it through that thick head of hair that was now within my reach. I looked at Blake and wondered how he would react, the thought of him getting angry at Alexander was the only thing that stopped me. I didn’t want him to lose his job because Blake suddenly became jealous, although me being here was probably sign enough that something was going on.
“Good. I’m--we’re,” she corrected herself, “excited.” She hung an arm around Blake’s neck, keeping her from slumping forward. “Do you wanna give us a preview? Secret show?” She purred that last one, no doubt using one of the same tactics she would use on every other man. This woman was a maneater, even when she was piss drunk. She knew how to play her bait and I saw Alexander fall for it.
It was Blake who stopped him. “Don’t worry about it. Keep your voice rested.”
I brushed a strand of hair that had fallen to the side of my forehead. “It’s a sold out show.” I wanted to make myself noticed, I was the one who had the power in the situation. Or so I thought.
I just didn’t account for the fact that I would sound like a proud mom gloating about her honor roll second grader. Alexander rolled with it though, like he did with everything else, and smiled at me. I found a strength in his gaze and realized that this situation may not be as bad as it seemed. If Blake would leave us well alone then Alexander could keep working for him until his music took off, which by the looks of it wasn’t too long from now.
But realization took me by the neck and swung me around the room like an emotional ragdoll. I was still pregnant and the father was still Blake.
Sadie, a sudden burst of energy infused into her orange juice- vodka mix, shot up from the couch and walked, stumbled, over to my side. She took me by the hand and dragged me to the bar, sloppily grabbing a handle of Grey Goose and pouring most of it onto the counter with some of it falling into a shot glass.
“This is for you girlie. You gotta loosen up. Girl’s night.” Her eyes bore into me, even through their drunken cloudiness. I kept my lips shut tight and shook my head.
“Don’t be a little girl, come on. Shoot it back.”
Had she never gotten taught about peer pressure? I could tell that Alexander took notice from the side of my eye, but I was surprised that Blake was the first to speak. “Leave her. Now, Sadie.” His voice was demanding, almost like he was telling his herding dog to heel at his side. I looked back towards Sadie, seeing his command sit in. I had a feeling that it would have normally worked, that Blake could usually keep her under control. But the alcohol was something he hadn’t accounted for.
Now she just seemed pissed.
“Take the shot or get out.” Her speech wasn�
�t slurred anymore, but it was dripping with venom. It took me totally by surprise. I should have realized that Sadie had been a spoiled little rich girl all her life, so when someone denied her something, even if it was just taking a drink, then her claws would come flying out.
“Woh, woh, no need for that.” Now Alexander was getting into the ring, standing up from the couch and putting a hand out between us. The universal symbol saying “calm the fuck down.”
Sadie still wasn’t having it. “Are you going to do it or not?” I took the shot glass from her and placed it back on the counter. I would have smashed it for dramatic effect, but I didn’t want to ruin Alexander’s VIP room and I figured glass would be dangerous. So I put it down as a sign that it was the end. This was going to go nowhere.
She stood there, her face flushing red and then returning to normal in what seemed like seconds. Not much unlike how a drunken chameleon would react in this situation.
“Why are you so invested in this, Blake?” she asked, spinning around and latching her emotional talons onto the douchebag. She completely ignored Alexander as she stumbled around him and stood in front of Blake. She looked like a drunkenly crafted marble sculpture, wobbling on both legs, her designer dress riding up scandalously high.
“She didn’t want to.” It was all he said, I didn’t need him to say more.
“You were awfully fucking quick to give me a demand.” Her aversion to dominance was showing. “You just jumped right out and told me, commanded me, to drop her.”
“You’re drunk, Sadie.”
Never, ever, blame a drunk person’s anger on their drunkenness. It is guaranteed to end badly.
“Are you fucking joking?” she spat, her left handballing up into a conspicuous fist.
Blake stood up, meeting her at eye level. “Calm down, Sadie.”
Also: never, ever, tell an angry drunk person to calm down. It is guaranteed to end even worse.
“You are fucking joking.” Sadie reeled her hand back and sent it flying at Blake, pent up anger, years of suspicions, of curious glances, over the shoulder looks, all that anguish, it all left its mark across Blake’s arrogant face. Her red, stinging pain was displayed on his face like a scarlet letter.
Monitored (The White Coat Series Book 3) Page 6