Off Her Rockers (Loving All Wrong #3.5) Read online

  “Our son.”

  I tried to extricate myself again. Failed. “Listen, you need to let me go. I can’t deal with you right now.”

  “Nope. I’ve been watching you, Alina. And you’re drunk off your ass.”

  “Mel’s outside.”

  “Then I’ll come to make sure you get home safe.”

  “What do you care?”

  “You’re the mother of my child.”

  “Davi, go fu—”

  Swift as a lash, he whipped me around and my body crashed into his from the unexpected move, my hands automatically locking around his neck for balance. Good thing, too, as it turned out I needed balance for more than just the crash.

  My Davian Hamilton was back. Gorgeous. Goddamn gorgeous.

  His hair had fully grown out to the length it’d been when we first met. Cropped mid-neck. Some locks curled under his ears, some were swept back like he’d ran his hands through it multiple times.

  His no-shame-don’t-care beard was gone, but he wasn’t cleaned shaved. Just the right amount of scruff left behind. Exactly how he wore it when we were together, or was it just my overly intoxicated brain playing tricks on me by conjuring up the old Davian, the good guy I fell hard for years ago?

  Whether it was really my Davian or my drunken imagination of him, all I knew was that without warning, a slew of old, buried feelings came shooting at me, rapid and unstoppable, like fusillades from a machine gun.

  He looked, smelled, and felt so good.

  I still loved him. Even though he’d been a complete jerkface over the last few weeks.

  “Dance with me.”

  “No. I need to—”

  As if the universe was one hundred percent team Davian, our song began playing. Massive Attack’s Angel.

  Slow and sinful, a smile eased onto his face, one eyebrow going up. Refusing to take no for an answer, he clasped my hips and urged me backward onto the dance floor.

  “Davi, no I—”

  “Just one dance and I promise we’ll leave.”

  “Is this another one of your ploys to land us in the tabloids?”

  At this, he winced. “I wanted to stop by your apartment and apologize face-to-face for that, but I knew you wouldn’t let me up.”

  “Damn straight, I wouldn’t.” He forcefully moved my hips against his. My body liked that. Very much. So of its own accord, my body began moving in tune with him.

  “I am sorry about that, Alina, but I had to do something. Benny wanted to drop me for bailing on his daughter and this whole kid drama with you, but it turns out he can’t drop us because of whatever deal he made with your cousin two years ago. He has to keep us on board for another decade unless we, the band, decide otherwise.

  “Problem was, I’m the lead member of the band. If the world hates the lead member…well, the band’s doomed. Benny wasn’t happy about that. He told me to fix it since he can’t drop me. I couldn’t depend on Xena. She’s biased. All for Ninety Miles and gives Ice Steam shitty PR management. So…I fixed it. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Only in the name of the band, baby.”

  Sighing, I rested my head on his shoulder, moved together. “I’m sorry Jess did that to you. But you could have been honest with me. I would’ve—”

  “Went along with it?” he finished. “That’s what Jake said, but I guess I wasn’t convinced. There was a time when I could’ve said without a doubt that you were team Ice Steam. But then you chose him, and I…I just wasn’t sure anymore.”

  Lifting my head, I peered up at him. “I will always be team Ice Steam, Davi. Never doubt it. If you ever need me to do anything in the name of the band, the answer is always yes. I cared about Xavi. Not his band. Ice Steam is my team.”

  His movements slowed, and calculating blue eyes stared down at me.

  “What is it?” I asked out of self-consciousness. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You used the past tense.”

  “What?”

  “You said you cared about him.”

  I averted my eyes. I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell him he’d been right about Xavi. I couldn’t face that embarrassment. Not right now. He would hear the news eventually, of course, but not from me. “I’m drunk.”

  He studied me closely. Two blue holes like lasers that could read all the secrets of my soul. I didn’t like it.

  I didn’t like the way his stare and moving hips and his return-of-the-old-Davi look was making me feel. Hot and cold at the same time. The need to cling to him and run far, far away from him at the same time. The desire to kiss him and make him bleed at the same time. The urge to love him and hate him at the same.

  He was clouding my already nebulous head. I just needed…needed distance.

  I ceased dancing, untangled myself from him, and backed away. “You’ve got your dance. Now I have to go. Don’t follow me.”

  Without waiting for a reply, I spun and melted into the crowd, slithering through as fast as I could. Desperate for something other than Davian’s saliva to wet my arid mouth, I made a quick detour to the bar closer to the entrance.

  With the crowd at the bar, I had to wait a while for bottled water but was relieved Davian hadn’t followed me. I couldn’t be in his presence. I couldn’t deal with the loss of Xavier and Davian’s tempting availability. The last thing I wanted to do was to make yet another bad decision.

  When I finally exited the club, Mel’s Range was sitting patiently across the street. Taking long gulps of water, I skipped across the street to the Range and opened the door. I froze.

  Hell to the no.

  Comfortably seated in the back, was Davian. “Get in before you get hit by a drunk driver.”

  Nope. “I’ll get in when you get out.”

  “Okay.” He shrugged and hopped out on his side. Slammed the door.

  Snapping on the cover of the plastic bottle, I climbed into the jeep. “Mel, listen, I get that you like Davi and all, but—”

  Again, the door opened and Davian hopped back into the vehicle. Snatching the bottle of water from my hand, he flipped up the cover and drank the remainder of my water.

  I scowled, but before I could open the door and jump out, Mel drove off.

  Davian laughed. “Relax, Ally. I just want to make sure you get home safe. You drank a lot tonight. You and Gay Boy.”

  “How would you know how much I had to drink?”

  His eyes flicked up to the rear-view mirror, and when I followed them, I found Mel’s eyes, watching us.

  “I spotted you at Club Fury. Called Mel. We’ve been following you since.”

  Club Fury. That’s the first club we hopped. Which meant he’d been following me all night. Did he know about Xavier’s bar?

  “Yes,” he said, hacking my thoughts and answering my unasked question. “I know about his bar. Tonight was the grand opening. Surprisingly, I was invited and given a membership card. I was gonna drop in. But when I saw you at Club Fury I figured you weren’t attending so…I no longer had a reason to go.”

  “I know, right?” I mumbled through a thick layer of sarcasm. “Why go when you could stalk me all night?”

  “I’m not stalking you.”

  “No?”

  “No,” he affirmed. “I’m just loving you from a distance.”

  Turning bodily away from him, I fixed my gaze out the window. “You can’t say things like that to me, Davi.”

  I felt him shift over on the seat, hard chest pressing against the back of my arm. “Like what? That I love you?”

  My eyes shuttered closed. “Don’t say it.”

  “I love you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “Stop!!”

  “I. Love. You.”

  “Davi, please…”

  “I paid the deejay to play our song. Do something about that,” he taunted.

  Shifting around, I faced him. “You tricked me. Again.”

  “I just wanted a dance.”

  Emotions. Of every kind.
Swelled up inside me. What to do with them? What to do with them? I did not know, and I was honest-to-God tired of crying. Why was he making this so hard? Why was he so…so… much? Right now, at this moment?

  Until my vision fogged, I stared at him.

  One big but gentle hand cupped the side of my face. “You okay?”

  “Can you just…”

  “Just?”

  “Hold me?”

  He was pulling me close to him in the next breath. His arms coming around me. Warming me. Soothing me.

  “Always, baby. Always.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I…THINK I’M OKAY NOW.”

  Mel had pulled up outside my apartment building over ten minutes ago, but Davian was still holding me to him like a lamb.

  “The journey doesn’t have to end here,” he whispered.

  I pulled out of his embrace. “I’m really plastered, Davi, and I can feel a headache coming on. All I want right now are some aspirin and my bed. We can talk more about your new…personalities tomorrow, which include being a jerkface, a trickster, and a stalker.”

  “Tomorrow when we wake up together?”

  Through my drunken haze, I pointed a stiff finger at him. “No! That is not happening.”

  Renting the door open, I called to Mel, “Take this pile of shit home,” then, in clumsy hassle, clambered from the vehicle and slammed the door in Davian’s face before he could get out.

  That merely delayed him, not deterred him. By the time I was in the lobby, he was behind me, breathing down my neck.

  Exhaustingly frustrated, I turned on him. “Save yourself the embarrassment of having security throw you out, Davi.”

  His eyes were too warm and relaxed, unperturbed, as he gave me a half-smile. “When was the last time you drank this much?”

  My head hurt when I tried to concentrate, to think of a time when I drank this much. Never. I’d never been the type to go out and get drunk. Always too mature for my own good. Always responsible. Until L.A. Until rock stars. And stunning southern redheads.

  “You forget that I know you, Ally. You’re not the girl who goes out and drink irresponsibly and dance barefoot. You’re tough and you’re mature and you’re a complete bitch most of the time, and I love that girl, not this person. I’m not here because I wanna wet my dick. I’m here because I care about you.”

  Seizing my purse, he stuffed it in his back pocket. Then, taking both my hands in his, he tugged me to him so our bodies kissed. Right there in the middle of the lobby, in front of the securities, the concierge, the hidden paparazzi, in front of God. “You’re fighting. Not with me, or Xavi, or whomever. But with something inside of you. Only you know what that is. I can see it. You’re tormented. I don’t know where your man is at a time like this, but I want to be here for you. As a friend. As someone who knows you and knows what makes you tick—unless you want me to be more, of course. I’m here. Right now. For you. And in the morning when you wake up sick from tonight’s mistake, I wanna be there holding your hair back. I wanna be there to cook you a greasy breakfast, to hold you until the bad feeling fades. I don’t want you to wake up alone, and to do it all on your own.” His hands came up to my neck. “Stop fighting me. Let me up.”

  This here was Davian Hamilton. The good man. The man of words. Sweet words. Loving words. Words that made you cave. This was the Davian I couldn’t ever resist. The Davian I couldn’t ever deny. And like I always did, I caved. I let him tuck me to his side and lead me and my frazzled brain up to my penthouse, where I immediately collapsed on the couch.

  That was where consciousness as I knew it ended.

  Something was trying to crawl up my throat. Something in connection to the horrible feeling in my stomach. Regardless, my euphoric dream of floating in the Hawaiian shores with Xavier Xander was enough to fade it out.

  Xavier playfully knocked me off my floating device and into the salty sea.

  “Bastard!” I screamed, giggling.

  “Sun’s getting more of your attention than I am. Swim with me.”

  Threading my arms and legs, I grinned at him. His blond waves were golden under the sun, water droplets dancing from his eyelashes like tears. I loved him so much. I could feel it, as sure as I could feel my heart beating behind my rib cage that I was going to die with him. He would ask me to be his wife and I would say yes. I would have his kids. Twins. Spoiled blonde twins who would want for nothing because their Daddy was a millionaire and their Mommy a billionaire.

  Maybe we’ll live in France, and Mick would still be around to tell them about the great Aline Acy.

  We’d be perfect. We’d be happy. We’d be forever in love.

  “What’s that look?” he asked, his smile blinding me.

  “Tell me you love me,” I whispered above the waves.

  Then I saw it. The dreadful gray fin poking out of the water, moving swiftly up behind him, and suddenly he was much farther away from me than he was a second ago.

  I tried to swim after him, but I couldn’t. Something was holding me back, paralyzing me.

  I tried to call out to him, to warn him, but nothing came. Silence.

  Then, the attack happened. The water around my lover colored red. His piercing cry of pain filled the heavens with sorrow. The red sea parted us, forcing unbearable distance between us.

  Then, she was there; standing on the shore. The redhead. Petite and perfect in a glowing white bikini. An angel.

  She waited on the shore with a wheelchair, silently telling Xavier to choose. He looked between us, face contorted with pain. He was closer to the shore than he was to me.

  He chose.

  He chose the shore.

  He propelled away from me, and when he crawled out of the water and to the shore, I understood why. One of his legs was gone. Chewed off by the sea creature.

  The redheaded angel had a wheelchair. I had nothing but love, and sometimes love just wasn’t enough.

  He reached out to her as if she was his savior. She helped him up, into the safety of the wheelchair.

  As she wheeled him away, he didn’t look back. Leaving me behind to drown in his blood.

  The horrible stomach feeling returned. Along with the thing, whatever it was, trying to crawl up my throat. Causing a sensation of wetness and complete dryness at the same time. Like gravel after the rain.

  My body convulsed, my eyes snapped open, and in a second I was on my feet, tripping over shoes and clothes on the floor and shooting into the bathroom. Dropping to my knees in front of the toilet, I regurgitated all of last night’s mistake.

  Uh-huh, today was going to be crappy as all hell.

  Until my ribs hurt and my throat felt like chalk, I heaved. Somewhere mid-hurl, Davian came in and knelt behind me, looped his arms around my middle and rested his head on my back, riding it out with me.

  Wrung dry, I rocked back into him, head hanging. That’s when I realized I was in nothing but my underwear set from the night before—black thong and a push-up bra.

  “Did you undress me?”

  I felt his nod against my back. “You asked me to. Said you were ‘hot’.”

  Oh, God. “What else did I ask you to do?”

  “Suck your nipples because they hurt.”

  Mortification had me groaning. “Did you?”

  “I’d never take advantage of you, Ally.”

  I knew that. “Thanks for staying.”

  He rose, taking me with him. “Take a shower. I made brunch.”

  “Brunch?” Turning my head to the side, I tried to catch sight of him in my periphery. “What time is it?”

  “Noon.” He kissed the back of my head and walked out.

  I turned to watch him leave. In just his jeans from the night before. Hung real low on his hips. The musculature of his back a sight for hungover eyes.

  I kept staring, hoping he would glance back and see the desire, but he didn’t.

  My head felt like Titanic on my shoulders, weighing me down, so I soaked in a warm bath i
nstead of taking a shower. Enough time to get my wits together and my greedy desires under control.

  Nonetheless, my headache was no less intense when I emerged from the bath an hour later. Though I did felt less discombobulated, enough to differentiate between a dream and reality.

  Swimming in the Hawaiian waves with Xavier Xander was a dream. Waking up with a disgusting hangover with Davian Hamilton kneeling with me over the toilet was reality.

  Having pretty blonde twins with Xavier Xander was a dream. That was over. Over. Having a nigh two-year-old son with Davian Hamilton was reality. That happened. Is still happening. That’s forever.

  I blow-dried my hair, plaited it in two, donned a short white romper, and headed out to the kitchen.

  Davian was seated at the kitchen island with my MacBook open, clicking through pictures of me and Jacob.

  Once he noticed me, he quickly snapped it shut and stood. “That was one helluva long shower.”

  “How did you guess my password?”

  A smirk dallied on his lips as he rounded the kitchen island and toward the stove. “It wasn’t X-A-N-D-E-R, that’s for sure.”

  I fired daggers at his back as he curled his fingers around the handle of the coffee pot and poured some in a mug. No, my password wasn’t X-A-N-D-E-R. It was H-A-M-I-L-T-O-N. Always had been. Guess I just never thought to change it.

  As I climbed onto a barstool, I made a mental note to change my password to something non-men related. Like fudgepopsiclestick_frappuccinochocolatecake8_7_6. Would love to see him try to guess that.

  With a shit-eating grin, Davian set the mug of coffee down before me, and then transferred a dome-covered dish from the stovetop to the island.

  “You ate already?” I asked, lifting the dome.

  Taken by surprise, my eyebrows shot to my hairline at the gourmet-style breakfast on my plate. Eggs Benedict with garlic buttered croissants, fish cakes, chocolate covered strawberries, fresh blueberries, and raspberries in a little saucer of frozen yogurt.

  “Yeah,” he answered, “You were taking too long.” Grabbing a hand mitten, he flipped open the oven door and pulled out a batch of oversized blueberry muffins. Setting them on the island, he bent again and came up with two china bowls of bread puddings.