Ice Steam (Loving All Wrong #3) (6 page)

I brought my shoulders up to my ears then dropped them. “This is happening.”

Buzz…buzz…buzz.

He glanced at his phone, then at his watch, then leaned across the table and—
ohsweetJesus
—pressed his famous lips to mine. Quick, but definitely not forgettable.

“See you in L.A., Chino.”

By the time my mind, blown to pieces by that evanescent kiss, slowly pieced itself back together, Xavier was striding away from me, hands jammed in the pockets of his hoodie, head down, hair creating a curtain around his face.

I touched my fingers to my lips.

Dear Lord, I’m in trouble.

T
wo weeks later, I was en route to Los Angeles.

Lion was relieved he didn’t have to put up a fight with me about the contract, and the only person who knew my real reason for skipping off to L.A was Saskia. She voiced, more than once, that she thought what I was doing was wrong, but she couldn’t stop me.

My life, my decision.

“You
do
like Xavi, though, yeah?” she questioned me as we walked down the driveway to where Thomas, Saskia’s driver, was packing my hot-pink suitcases into the Phantom.

Jacob was propped on my side, yapping his gum and yanking my hair, while Clare, JK’s eight-year-old daughter from another mother, stuck to Saskia’s heels like she usually does whenever she was over for the weekends.

“Seriously, Kia, have you
seen
Xavier?” I replied, sliding a side glance her way. “I came home with my crotch soaked. That’s not ‘like’, that’s
desire
.”

“I don’t know,” she said, absently rubbing her baby bump. “I’ve just never seen Xavi go after anyone so hard. Back when I used to hang with Ninety Miles, he was the sluttiest of all of them. To the extreme. How he’s acting right now got to mean he’s
really
into you, and I’m worried how things will play out if he finds out if you’re using him. Ninety Miles’ boys are all for one, one for all, no matter what. You hurt one, you hurt all.”

Clare skipped off down the driveway to Thomas, firing a million questions at him.

“Worrying isn’t good for the baby,” I told her. “I promise I won’t let it get too serious between us. You know I’m in love with Davi.”

Saskia gave off a loud and exhausted sigh. “I hope to God you know what you’re doing, Ally.”

Clare waited until Thomas wasn’t looking before making a dash for it through the open gates. That little girl was nothing but a headache, rude and mouthy. No idea how Saskia survived her.

Both Saskia and I started running for the gates, yelling for her to come back, me lagging behind because of Jacob, who was flapping his arms excitedly, all stirred up due to our raised voices, showing off his gums and two bottom teeth, thinking this was a party.

“Gabooblahbentibahabadidahhhdootoo!” he gummed on.

When we finally made it through the gates, Dave Hamilton, up in age with papery skin, cropped brown hair and wisdom-filled blue eyes, was walking toward us with Clare.

“She yours?” he asked in course voice ruined by years of vocal straining and tobacco.

“Yep,” Saskia answered, rushing forward to take the little girl’s hands. To Clare, “You’re going to be in so much trouble with your father if you don’t behave, yeah?”

Clare’s eyes bugged out. “No! Please don’t tell on me, Auntie Sassy!”

As Saskia and Clare argued, I noticed, from my peripheral vision, that Dave was staring me down. When I cocked my head to find out what his deal was, I realized he wasn’t staring at
me
, but at Jacob, all color drained from his already pale face.

Oh shit
.

“Lemme see the bottom of his right foot,” the older man hoarsely demanded.

“I’m sorry?”

“His foot,” he repeated. “Lemme see the bottom of it.”

I know what he wanted to check for. The red, pear-shaped birthmark on the left sole. Davian had it, Kaydeen had it, and Jacob was born with it.

Since Jacob was born, I’d been careful to keep him out of Dave’s sight. With all the excitement caused by Clare, I never even considered our next door neighbor might be out.

“Uh, sorry, we don’t sell baby porn here,” I smarted, turned and began power-walking back inside.

“I know a Hamilton when I see one!” he called after me, ripping off my veil for everyone to see my lies. “I won’t sit back and let you keep this from Davi. I won’t let you keep my grandson from me!”

Whirling around, I marched up to him. He had great height, but I glowered up in his old face anyway. “If you say one word to Davi about this, I’ll take it to the press that Mr. Famous Rockstar knocked me up at nineteen, screwed my life up, the ran off to chase fame and
refused
to take care of his son. I’ll tell them he’s a delinquent and a fake, an ungrateful turd who chewed off the hand that fed him.”

Dave gaped at me, as if to say “you wouldn’t”. This man clearly didn’t know me and what I was capable of.

I smirked. “How do you think that’ll play out for his shit of an engagement? If you want the Hamilton name to remain revered, you’ll
shut it
.”

Dave opened his mouth, then shut it, opened it again, shut it, then, “Do you at least plan on telling him?”

“In my own time,” I answered curtly. “I will not be forced or threatened by anyone. He’s
my
son.
I
carried him for nine months. So
I
choose who gets to be in his life.”

The older man swallowed. “What about me?”

“What about you?”

“Do I get to be in his life?” He looked at Jacob, reaching out to play with his little fingers. “At least once a week? Even for a few hours? I’m just right next door. It gets lonely sometimes in that big empty house.” He stopped, shook his head, turned his face to the sky, and laughed. Heartily. When he looked back at me—well, at Jacob—his eyes were glistening. “Christ Almighty, I can’t believe I have a grandson!”

I watched him as he continued to laugh and play with Jacob. There was nothing but instant love, warmth and happiness in his face. And I couldn’t let myself do it. With Davian busy being a rock star, Kaydeen chasing her dreams in New York, and his wife deceased, I imagined how hard it must be for him to be alone over there. Learning about Jacob was probably the highlight of his year.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep his grandson from him.

“His name is Jacob,” I heard myself say. “And yeah, I think we can work something out.”

Leaving Jacob was hard. But the second I arrived in L.A., I knew JK had been right. The change of atmosphere undeniably altered my entire being instantly. It felt as though there’d been a steel post jammed in my lungs and the fresh, new air of Los Angeles was muscling it clean out.

I was picked up from the airport in a white Range Rover by a butch in a black suit, cornrowed brown hair and a chin piercing, then chauffeured to a stellar high-rise apartment building in West Hollywood.

A genial concierge informed me Lion T’mar was awaiting my arrival in the penthouse suite on the 29th floor as he handed me two gold key cards marked resident. After he gave me a quick rundown on key cards and guests, I boarded the elevator with the butch towing my luggage.

I glanced around in befuddlement when the elevator booted us out directly into the penthouse suite, while the butch relieved herself of my luggage and left with a nod.

Lion was out on the balcony, which had its own infinity pool, all-white lounge chairs and umbrellas, and aluminum railing.

The penthouse was as overly pretentious as one would expect any overpriced, modernistic skyscraper would be. Clean seams and finishes, pops of color here and there, flat, boxy furniture and glossy floors. Someone less fortunate would be “oohing” and “ahhing” right now, but I grew up in wealth, and after having celebrities like Saskia and JK practically as family, not much awed me at this age.

Dumping my handbag on the marble-top kitchen island, I trekked out to the balcony.

Lion T’mar was built, had height, a clean caramel complexion, shorn dark hair and brown eyes. Apart from making people’s dreams come true, he was also a rapper himself. Not the tattooed, grills in the mouth, five watches on the wrist kind. Clean cut, good-looking, and one hundred percent real.

“A penthouse? Really?” I said to his back, then moved to stand beside him at the railing, taking in the view. It was already evening, the time when all the neon signs, stars and streetlights grinned arrogantly through the darkness. “Aren’t I supposed to be a
struggling
model?”

Without looking at me, Lion raised a glass of amber liquid to his lips, sipped and swallowed. “Believe me, the apartment I rented for you was nowhere near this posh. But, of course, your dick of a cousin demanded to see where you’d be stayin’, and when he did…well, he made it straight that while you here in L.A., you’ll be gettin’ nothing but the best of the best.”

“He rented this penthouse.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yah.” Another sip of alcohol. “Mel, butch who picked you up, he hired her as your personal driver and gopher. And a Mercedes convertible’s downstairs in the garage for you.”

Annoyed, I sighed. “The bastard sure knows how to insert himself into things that don’t concern him.”

“Fiercely protective of you, girlie.” He turned to look at me now. “Don’t usually take threats from people, but ma’ man gave me a clear and thorough warnin’ that if anything at all happened to you while you’re here on my watch, he’d spoon my eyes out. And, Ally?”

“Hmm?”

“I believe him.”

Through a humorless laugh, I told him, “Cousin just has a tyranny complex. He can’t seem to function without going around scaring people straight.”

“Why did you come?” Lion asked with a frown so deep he almost had a trench between his brows.

I turned and faced him full-on. “Excuse me? Last I checked,
you
were the one hunting me down.”

“Right…but that’s
before
I knew you got a 12 billion dollar net worth.” He seemed thunderstruck. “Knew ‘bout your trust fund, but this…lil girl? You’re a
billionaire
.”

“Oh God,” I groaned. Cousin Chad seriously needed to die. “I’d
really
prefer you keep that tidbit to yourself, alright? No idea why Cousin even divulged that.”

“Wanted me to know how valuable you were and why he’d kill me if anything happened to you.”

Frankly, I was sick and tired of people throwing my inheritance in my face, like it was all I amounted to.

My mother was from old money, wealth passed down from generation to generation. Wealth I may never even get the chance to spend a dime of. For one, I had a 30 million dollar trust fund to blow through first. Two
,
I had a disgustingly rotten rich cousin who was always “taking care” of things, never leaving me the chance to spend a penny on my own. Three, he’d given me a black card with a five hundred thousand dollar limit, stemming from
his
account, not mine.

Therefore, my inheritance and trust fund were completely untouched.

Due to his perpetual physical absence as my legal guardian, cousin Chad’s constant mollycoddling was his way of “being there”. Irritating sometimes, but I wasn’t ungrateful. I could die tomorrow knowing Jacob would be set for life.

“Could’ve bought out of this contract if you wanted to.” He studied me for a long moment. “Why did you
really
come, Ally?”

Averting my gaze, I looked over the railing, down at the glitzy city.

“Is it Davi? You came here to chase Davi?” he demanded. “’Cause if he’s your objective, Ally, I’m packin’ you up and shippin’ you da’ hell back. Get me? Last girl I watched go down this road wound up floatin’ half-dead in a bathtub. Ain’t going through that shit again.”

I could understand his concern, but mine and Saskia’s journeys were different. Yeah, I was here to chase Davian, but I wasn’t sure what I would do when, or if, I saw him. Wasn’t even positive I
would
be doing anything, as a matter of fact. My heart and mind and body had been pulling in three different directions since that evening in Starbucks with Xavier. I wasn’t sure about anything.

Maybe I just wanted to
see
Davian. Wanted him to see me see him. Maybe I wanted answers. Closure. Maybe I’ll never tell him about Jacob. Maybe I’ll stand aside and let him marry Jessica. Maybe I’ll be a bitch and rip them apart. Who knew what tomorrow held?