Ice Steam (Loving All Wrong #3) (34 page)

“Shit,” JK swore. “Not home, so I’ll let Sassy take him over. Will also try talkin’ some sense into Chad. By the way, I don’t know as much ‘bout what happened as you think I do.” He hung up.

I turned off the shower. Knowing now that the penthouse was bugged, I didn’t want to risk the chance of Chad catching on to my lame attempt to save Dave.

I made a mental note to purchase a bug detector to locate and destroy everything that intrusive bastard had planted.

As I trekked back out onto the balcony, my phone started up again, and I groaned at Xena’s name on the screen, tempted to hit Reject.

“Yes, Miss Xander?”

“Girl, I
cannot
believe you’ve been rejecting my calls!” she yelled into the phone. “I thought we were good. What the hell?”

“New phone. Old SIM,” I informed her. “I smashed my phone. Because of your
brother
, not you.”

Xena made a mock sobbing sound. “Alina,
this
is what I’ve been calling you about. The slut corroborated his story. And it
has
to be true, because, think about it: why would he be screwing some whore when he
knew
you were out shopping for a dress and would be there at any minute to get ready for the date? Annnnnd, why would he cheat
now
, when you two have been phone-dating for almost six months and he hadn’t so much as looked at another girl—which was ehhhpic, by the way, considering this is
Xavier Xander
we’re talking about, the alcoholic slut of the band.”

“Wait, what
story
are you talking about?”

“What he
told
you,” he said with impatience. “That he doesn’t know the bitch or how she got into his room? That he was in the shower and came out to find her on his bed?”

This had me scratching my head, because I couldn’t remember Xavier telling me any such thing. I’d been so blown back into a vortex at the scene, that I’d gone dumb, numb, deaf.

I remembered his mouth moving, his hands shaking me, but I’d been so out of it,
nothing
registered.

“Of course,” Xena rambled on, “it sounds like a lame excuse, and I probably wouldn’t believe him either, but when you left, he was
so
mad he nearly choked the poor slut to death. Mark had to pull him off her, or she’d be dead and he’d be in jail right now.”

“He did
what
?”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said in a soft voice, “you’ve yet to see my brother when he’s overtaken with rage. He’s lethal.”

“So, what did the girl say?” I asked. “How did she get in there?”

“She’s a Call Girl. Said she was paid for, picked up by a cabby who had specific orders to keep her blindfolded—she swears men call in with twisted orders like this all the time, so for her it was the norm.

“When the cab dropped her off, she said some guy who told her his name was A, escorted her inside the house with the blindfold still on, brought her into a room—
where she heard a shower running—
stripped her, laid her down on the bed, and told her to touch herself until he came back.

“Later when the shower went off, the blindfold was ripped from her eyes, and Xavi was standing over her, demanding to know who she was and how she got into his room. She said she thought one of his friends brought her there as a surprise for him, so she played along and continued touching herself…I guess that’s when
you
walked in...”

If she hadn’t mentioned ‘A’, I would’ve called bullshit on that eye-rolling story. Sounded crazy, but hearing ‘A’ was all I needed to know that Xavier and I were set up. And all I needed to confirm that
Tex
was A—and he knew everything. About my son. About my cheating on Xavier.

His inexplicable aversion to me was all starting to make sense now. But what I couldn’t figure out was
how
he knew. How could he have been at more than one locations at the same time? How did he come into possession of my personal photos?

I questioned, “Did anyone own up to this?”

“Nope,” she exhaled. “Markie and Tex swore it wasn’t them. Leo was suspiciously missing, so we’re guessing it’s him. We just don’t understand why he would do that.”

It wasn’t Leo, of course. But if I affirmed that, she would want to know how I was so sure it wasn’t him, and then I would have to tell her what I discovered in Danni’s bathroom yesterday, so I opted to keep quiet on that assumption.

“Where’s Xavier now?” I asked in a whisper. “Can I talk to him?”

“I don’t
know
.” I detected worry and anxiety. “He told the band sabotaging his relationship with their silly A games was crossing the line. Then he packed a bag and left. We haven’t heard from him since. Have been calling him but we’re only getting voicemail.”

“Holy shit,” I murmured. “Does this mean—”

“Yes,” Xena confirmed, her voice despondent. “It’s the only way he knows to deal with his shit. He’s not strong enough. You were his distraction, Alina.”

“Xena, I’m so sorry...” Xavier relapsing wasn’t something I, the band, or anyone needed right now. Slutty, alcoholic Xavier was more popular in the tabloids than guitar-genius Xavier. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”

Xena sighed for about the hundredth time. “I have a few places in mind. Could you swing by Beach Rock, make some breakfast for the boys, and come searching with me?”

I waited a beat before replying, “Um, I
will
go searching with you, but,
why
do I need to make breakfast for the band?”

“Because even when you’re not there, they still wake up expecting to find the kitchen island covered with food, and when they don’t, they get grumpy and give me weird looks, like they’re somehow expecting
me
to fill in, and I’m starting to feel pressured because I don’t do domestic shit.”

If I wasn’t in a bad mood right now, I would’ve laughed. “Did you forget that one of those same ‘boys’ is behind the split between me and your brother? Why on earth would I want to feed those jerkoffs?”

In the stretch of silence that followed, I knew she was thinking up her best ‘Xena-gets-what-Xena-wants’ convincing comeback. “Because…if Xavi’s anywhere near…and he gets a whiff that you’re there…he’ll know there’s still hope left for you two and he’ll come back. You’ll get your boyfriend back, I’ll get my brother back, and the band will get their mate back.”

Got to hand it to this girl, she was good at convincing people do what she wanted.

Begrudgingly, I agreed.

During the drive to the villa, I questioned Mel on her reasons for giving Davian information about me, and she explained she had been there two years ago: she was the ghost who drugged Davian’s drink, then abducted him from the bus.

After she heard the story behind the abduction, she didn’t believe Chad’s actions were justified, and that’s the reason she gave Davian a lot of green lights with me, even though she had specific orders to alert Chad whenever Davian came within a hundred feet of me.

I wasn’t mad at her. In fact, I was grateful for her kindness towards Davian. My only concern was if Chad would fire her…or worst.

As promised, I swung in at Beach Rock, made breakfast for the band without exchanging a single syllable with any of them, then Xena and I filled our water-bottles and went man-hunting.

We never found Xavier.

Three weeks later, and no one has seen or heard from him since.

I avoided the villa. Not just because of a missing Xavier, but also because of the triangle with Jessica, and Tex’s silent war against me.

Things were a sordid mess, and I was to be blamed for most of it, but I had no apologies, because I had no regrets.

I loved Xavier, and I loved Davian, and if Davian hadn’t left me behind, I wouldn’t have come chasing after him and experienced the sheer bliss and the raw, intense feeling of being with Xavier.

And boy, Xavier was an
experience
.

At times I would question myself: Did I
truly
come to L.A. to chase Davian? Or did I come because seeing Xavier sitting across from me in Union Square Starbucks that evening had sparked something in me. I mean, he’d made me laugh, lust, and long for, in a matter of minutes.

But then I would remember all those sweet moments, words, and kisses shared with Davian…and then I’d just get confused.

Davian’s jubilee was irrepressible when he heard what happened with Xavier at Beach Rock. That’s because he had no idea how I felt about Xavier. He wasn’t aware he was sharing my heart with Xavier in the same way I was sharing his heart with Jessica. He hadn’t realized that each time he refused to choose me, my heart loved him a little less, and loved Xavier a little more.

I phoned Xena everyday, twice a day, seeking updates on whether she heard from her brother. And each night I would alternate between sleeping in Davian’s sweater I stole that night at the hotel, and Xavier’s basketball jersey from that event at the gymnasium.

Sometimes I went two consecutive nights in Davian’s sweater; sometimes I went three in Xavier’s jersey.

I had late-night conversations with Davian, and then fall asleep and dream about Xavier.

But at the end of the day, I had neither of them. I was still alone.

Lion had decided on high fashion modeling for me. Based upon demands from some of the most prestigious brands since the leaked photos and brouhaha around my name, he concluded that high fashion, exclusive to no one, was where I’d make a fortune—translate, where
he
would make a fortune.

Already he had me booked up, and so far I’d done three all-day shoots in New York, and returned to L.A. for another shoot and cologne commercial.

As of yesterday, I had a full two weeks of freedom before I had to make another trip to New York.

“You’re still off alcohol, right, Alina?” Danni called from my kitchen.

“Yep,” I replied around a mouthful of granola bar, while snickering with Leo at the absurdities from the television series
Californication
.

Leo and Danni had been using my apartment as their meet-up spot for the past two weeks. Glad to have found someone non-judgmental of his sexual preference to talk to, Leo blushingly opened up and told me Danni was his first foray into men. He’d been aware of his sexuality since adolescence, but always fought against acting on it. And after years of successful suppression, one look at Danni was all it took to break his restraint.

After I walked in on him that day, he no longer felt comfortable at Danni’s studio apartment, and he was even more paranoid about hotels. So, he decided to shop for a new, more secure apartment for Danni. In the interim, I allowed them to use my place—the definition of secure. The penthouse was big enough, and the guest bedroom was all the way on the other side of the apartment, far from mine, easier for us to keep out of each other’s way.

On some nights, however, like tonight, we watched television together, laughed and chatted for a few hours before we turned in.

“How is it possible that Hank’s dick hasn’t withered and fallen off yet?” Danni said as he returned from the kitchen with a bottle of sparkling water for me, a beer for Leo. “That man screws anything,
anything
that comes on to him. I don’t even get why women literally throw themselves at him, because he’s not all that hot,
and
he’s a douchecanoe.”

Pausing my granola bar mid-bite, I gave Danni a look. “Boy, check yourself. Hank Moody gives me a serious case of the swoons. Hottest douchebag man-child ever! If you don’t get a boner just hearing that man speak, then
your
dick needs to wither and fall off. Am I right, Leo?”

I glanced over at Leo who was sitting in an armchair, grinning, the mouth of his beer bottle pressed to his lower lip as he watched Danni from beneath his lashes.

That smile on his face, was one of the main reasons I loved having them over. When Leo was around Danni, he was a completely different person than when he was around the band. Virtually unidentifiable.

Around his band-mates he was a serious, rugged, badass rocker—almost like he was holding his breath to hide his true self, because when Danni was around, he grinned a lot, talked a lot, and
breathed
normal.

Maybe one day he would come out to the world. Maybe he never will. But either way, I believed everyone, gay or straight, deserved to grin that wide without ever being judged.

Danni glared, tapping two fingers against the neck of his beer bottle, daring Leo to agree with me.

“Who’s Hank again?” Leo cleverly evaded. “Is he the bald guy who looks like a giant penis, or the alcoholic writer who tucked his cock and made a mangina?”

I busted out laughing, pointing at Leo. “Nice saving your ass!”

Smirking, Danni kicked his feet up on the coffee table—the same coffee table Davian bent me over and screwed me like a madman on a couple weeks ago. “He’d better. Or I sure as shit wouldn’t be kissing it tonight.”

As Danni went on about whorebag Hank Moody, my cellphone hummed in my lap. I glanced down at the screen, and my laughter died on my lips.

An email. From…
oh God
…Xavier.

I stared down at the screen for God knows how long before I felt Danni’s hand on my shoulder. “You okay, chica?”