Ice Steam (Loving All Wrong #3) (38 page)

This trip could’ve been beautiful. Perfect place, perfect location, perfect man. But he’d pull down his pants and shit all over it.

By Sunday night I was overly impatient for it all to be over, so I could go home and apologize to Davian for letting him plan a weekend for us then skip town without telling him. He was probably mad as hell at me, but my phone had been off since I arrived here, so I didn’t know for sure.

Come Monday morning, I was up, dressed and ready by 5:36 am, a whole three hours before my flight time. Xavier wasn’t in bed when I woke up, perhaps in Chloe’s. But by that point, I didn’t care. Didn’t care to go searching for him. I’d mechanically showered, got dressed, packed, and wheeled my suitcase out of the room, parking it by the front door, ready to
go
.

At that hour of the morning, the sun was merely yawning into dawn, coloring outside a dusty yellow. The house was quiet, asleep, save for the snores coming from Mick’s room.

Perhaps Xavier had forgotten to set his alarm or something—even though I was
hours
too early—but I was itching, impatient for him to dump me off at the airport with the same callous treatment as when he’d picked me up—that way, I could go back home and have no guilt about being with Davian.

I paced in the living room for a while, waiting, before deciding to go find him myself. Without a guess or thought, I went straight to Chloe’s room, knocking twice on the door. When no answer came, I turned the knob with a shaky hand and poked my head in.

As much as I claimed I didn’t care if Xavier was screwing her, the giant sigh of relief that whooshed out of me when I saw Chloe curled up in her bed alone couldn’t be ignored.

Backing out, I quietly closed the door. After searching every room except Mick’s and turning up short a blond-haired guitarist, I extended my search outside.

Braking amidst the flourishing rose garden out the back, I took a minute to appreciate the broad-shouldered, long-haired, bulwark of a man sitting at the edge of the cliff. Because after today, it would be the end of us. No more tall, blond and beautiful in my life.

I resumed the jaunt toward the cliff, and as I got closer, I noticed he was looking down at something in his hand.

As if he sensed my approach, he swiftly shoved whatever it was in his hoodie pocket, and his torso twisted slightly as he cocked his head over his shoulder, squinting at me through the light fog.

A gust of biting wind whipped around us, diffusing the inky scent of the roses, and I pulled my coat tighter around me, hugging myself.

Something glinted, catching my eye. A golden flask.
Son of a
… He saw the second I spotted it in the patchy grass beside him. He reached for it, but I beat him to it, snatching it off the ground and stepping back.

The weight of it surprised me, so I flipped open the top, peeked inside. Flipping it shut, I frowned down at him, confused. “It’s…full.”

Discharging a sigh, he languidly raised his wrist with the bracelet I’d bought him. He’d worn it the whole time I was here, even while he slept. “Been walking around with that flask for weeks now. Never take this bracelet off. Every time I raised it to take a sip, the bracelet reminds me of what I have—well,
could
have—and would ruin if I took that sip.” He twisted back around to face the ocean. “Works. Never had a drop.”

I thought about it for a second, then drifted to the edge and sat down beside him. “Reminds you of what you
could
have?”

“Band has a big act in Paris this week,” he said. “Gonna meet them there, do what I do, and go back to my life in L.A.”

Stuffing the flask in my coat pocket, I glanced down at our feet dangling over the edge. “What do you mean by ‘could have’, Xavi? Do you feel like you don’t have me? Do you feel like I’m not yours?”

“You’re not.”

I looked over at him. “What are you talking about? I came here to be with
you
. You’re the one who’s been acting like a melancholic Hamlet all weekend!”

Gaze fixed out at the rising sun burning through the morning fog, he whispered so softly I almost missed it, “You gave me a key card, Chino.”

“Wha—” I started to say, but then stopped as understanding dawned.

OhGodOhGodOhGod.
He knew!

Now it was all starting to make sense. Why else would he have run off to France when
he
was the supposed offender?

“Packed a duffel to come spend the night, grovel,
make
you listen to the truth. That I didn’t stab that chick. Didn’t know her or how she got in my bed. Got up to your penthouse. Heard music. Saw his shit on the floor. Figured you were doing it out of anger. Revenge. Went to your room to stop it, ‘cause not even a revenge stab would’ve made me give you up.

“But when I looked inside and saw you with him, saw your face, knew it had nothing to do with me or what you thought I did. He was important. He meant more to you.”

Picking up a pebble from between his thighs, he stretched out his arm, then flipped his wrist and watched the pebble fall, a long silent journey down, until it hit the water with an almost inaudible
plop
. “He saw me. You didn’t. And to make a statement, to have you return the sentiment loud enough for me to hear, he told you he loved you.”

My insides felt hollow, and a nauseating feeling rocked me from the bones outward. Davian
saw
him? And said…
nothing
?

“Thought it was ironic to have Jess calling me as I walked outta your building. She wanted to meet. To talk. Never told her, though. ‘Cause she had better news for me…”

A slight tremble washed over me, even though it was growing warmer with the sun’s slow ascent. Jessica had told him. That stupid bitch. What was her logic behind telling Xavier and not Davian?

All this time, he knew. He wouldn’t kiss me, he wouldn’t get aroused, because there was nothing left. Then,
why
was I here?

I looked down at the long distance from the cliff to the ocean. At the scraggy, jagged rocks jutting up out of the shallow end of the water. And suddenly, I didn’t feel safe sitting on a cliff, in a country nearly nine thousand miles from home, with a melancholic, recovering alcoholic who knew I cheated on him and was no longer attracted to me.

Sucking in a deep breath, I did a mental countdown.
Five, four, three, two,
and at
one,
I scooted back, shot up from the ground and began sprinting back through the rose garden.

“What the…?”

Halfway down the narrow path between the rows of roses, he tackled me to the grass.

Effortlessly subduing my wriggling body, he flipped me over onto my back. “Tell you I know you’re a lying, cheating, selfish bitch and you
run
?!”

His whole weight was on top of me, pinning me to the grass, and real fear coursed through me as I tried in vain to get out from under him. “W-why did you call me here? If you k-knew, all this time…why am I h-here?”

“Why do you
think
?!” he barked in my face, his breath hot and reeking of rage.

I turned my face to the side, hiding from his scathing glare, as twin tears escaped my fear-filled eyes.

He froze. And then his weight was gone as he pushed up to his knees, watching me with a horrified expression. “Wait, you’re
afraid
of me? You think I’m gonna…Jesus Christ,
hurt
you?”

When I said nothing, he shook his head in shock, transferring his weight from his knees to his ass, legs stretched out. “Might be a drunk with anger issues, but I’d never hurt you like that, Chino. Can’t believe you…
Jesus
.” His fingers combed back through his long waves, pausing halfway down and gripping hard.

Feeling disgusted with myself, I slowly eased up onto my elbows. “I’m sorry. I just thought…I couldn’t understand why you would ask me here if you knew the whole truth. I panicked.”

“You moved to L.A. because of me, or because of him?”

Honestly… “I don’t know.”

He nodded once, as though, as crazy as it sounded, he understood. “You haven’t told him about the boy, why?”

“I don’t—”

“Know,” he finished, eyes lifting to the sky. “This is good. There’s hope.” He nodded to himself, repeating, “There’s hope.”

I sat up straight, facing him. “What?”

When his eyes moved from the morning sky to me, I saw
my
Xavier inside them. The distance and detachment was gone, and now hope and determination were radiant in their depths. “Chino, you got his son. His
son
. He might love Jess, but I saw him with you that night. He
made
me see that it wasn’t just some meaningless shit. Was challenging me. Letting me know it was you and him against me, and I’d never win. That’s why I left. If he knows about the boy, there ain’t a doubt in my mind he’d leave Jess. Jess knows this and she’s pissing. You know this, too. Know you do. Yet you haven’t used your strongest weapon to win. Why
is
that, Alina?”

I was out of words, thoughts, cognition. My head spun in confusion, big, fat question signs swirling around, and I just wanted to start running again. From both of them.

Xavier returned to his knees, leaning in to me. “If you were in L.A. for him, if you really wanted him back from Jess, if you believed, with all your heart, that he was it for you, you would’ve told Davi about the boy the second you saw him. But you
don’t know
if he’s the reason you moved to L.A. You
don’t know
if you really want him back from Jess. You
don’t now
, with all your heart, if he’s it for you. You. Don’t. Know.”

“Xavi—”

“
I’m
the reason you don’t know, Chino.” His voice dropped to a rusty whisper. “There’s hope.”

Tears brimmed, hot and blurry. “Xavi—”

“Ran to Dad, ‘cause it felt like history repeating itself, ‘cept with a slight twist,” he rambled on. “Her name was Aline, yours is Alina. Was in love with someone old, Dad was new. You’re in love with someone old, I’m new. Dad had known undoubtedly who Mom would choose. Wish I had that much confidence in us, but I don’t. Wanted you here so he could look into your eyes and tell me if there’s hope. ‘Cause God knows I couldn’t do it myself. Couldn’t even look at you without feeling like being stabbed repeatedly in the chest. You hurt, Chino. Wanting you is like wanting to die. Still can’t seem to let you go. It’s hard.”

On his knees, he moved in even closer between my legs. “‘
Sorry, son. But she’s the other guy’s
’, was what he told me last night. Said there’s no hope. But now…” He laughed, almost deranged. “Looking at you, it’s here.
See
it. Hope. You love me, Chino. And that’s why you don’t know the answer to anything.”

A lone tear fell, and without even touching my cheek, it landed on my top lip. “I do.”

He started to smile, but then stopped, seemed to deliberate on something for a second, before dipping into his hoodie pocket and coming out with a little black box.

I panicked. More afraid than when I thought he was going to push me off the cliff, I began scooting backwards on my legs and arms, trying to get away, to get to my feet, to run. “Xavi,
no
. Don’t do this. Don’t—”

Lunging forward, he caught my crawling legs, and then I was on my back again and he was on top of me.

He was hard.

“Chino—”

“Don’t do this!’ I screamed, thrashing beneath him. “
Don’t ask me
!”

“Calm down, babe,” he whispered in my ear. “Not what you think.”

At that assurance, I calmed down.

Bringing the box in front of my face, he flicked it open for me to see. Inside, was a gorgeous X ring, the two skinny gold bands which crossed over each other winking with diamonds.

An X. Not an engagement ring. An X.

I inhaled and exhaled a few calming, relieving breaths.

“A Choose Me ring,” he explained. “My band has always been my life. Those assholes and no one but my famz have ever made me
feel
. Then came you. Making me feel shit. Different shit. Don’t know what it is—don’t know if it’s love. Never been in love before. But…do know I don’t wanna lose that feeling. Would give it all up, the band, the fame, in exchange for a lifetime of that feeling. You. For you. Doing something now that I’ve never done in my entire life: beg.
Begging
you to choose me, Chino.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I was too overwhelmed. Too full. And so empty at the same time. And I wished I could just run into my father’s arms and sob on his shoulder. “
There now,
” he would soothe. “
My brave girl has tears. I was starting to wonder
…”

“Xavi, I—”

Head shaking, he quickly pressed a finger to my lips. “No.”

My brows drew together, befuddled.

“Not yet.” Taking my left hand, he slid the ring onto my index finger. “Take some time. Think about it. Gimme your decision when I get back with the band this weekend. Meantime, hold on to that. Don’t take it off. Not even to shower. Not until you make a decision.

“Some things I haven’t told you, and some things I’ve lied about. But coming clean right now won’t help my case. You choose me, I’ll come clean, then spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

He stretched out on top of me like Christ on the cross, laying his head on my bosom. “Aware you aren’t mine right now, but I’m yours, Chino. One hundred percent yours. Do what you must when you get back. Won’t hold it against you. Just use that ring as a reminder. That I’m waiting. For you to choose me.”