Black Frost Winter: The Black Seasons Book Two

by Lenai Despins

  “Bon nuit,” he said in a way that sounded disingenuous.

  Cold air hit her hard when the door opened. She snuggled up closer to Leo as they walked to the bike.

  “Must get paid a fortune to work there,” she said when they were a safe distance away. “Everyone takes their jobs so seriously.”

  “They’re paid to ensure scandals remain rumors.”

  “So our break-up won’t make the news tomorrow?” she asked with sarcastic disappointment.

  Leo played along. “Sadly not, but we might have to make another public appearance soon to really squash the gossip.”

  Alexia observed him closely to see if he was still joking. “Are you arranging our second date before we’ve finished our first?”

  Leo twisted his head in her direction as he mounted the bike. “Depends on whether or not you say yes.”

  “That answer hangs in the balance of where you take me next. Better make it good.”

  He throttled the engine, leaving her scrambling for his waist.

  “It’ll be good.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Alexia’s second experience on the Ducati was more comfortable than the first. With less time required to overcome her initial fear of falling, she soon thought of nothing except the city flying past. Every turn held something new to discover; an old-fashioned carousel bright against the black sky, bistros brimming with guests enjoying the country’s fine cuisine, and bridges that paved the way over the mystic waters of the Seine. The road Leo parked on was wide this time and crowded with foot traffic. Bars dotted both sides of the street, duelling over which one could make the most noise.

  Leo led her to one more rambunctious than the rest. Stepping into the bar was like stepping back in time to the 1990s. A compilation of tattered posters covered the walls, and the bar top was a bright rainbow of stickers. A French rock band blasted from the speakers, playing a song with a solid melody that Alexia was inclined to bob her head to. A few people were hanging on the bar, looking at the bartender to quench their thirst for a good time. Everyone was in jeans and sneakers.

  Nailed it.

  Leo still looked to her for validation.

  “Better?”

  “Much.”

  He flashed her a knowing smile, like he’d just let her into a secret part of his world and he couldn’t have been happier to have her there.

  “Want to watch the band?”

  Alexia’s eyes darted to the wall that hid the rest of the bar from view.

  “That music is live?”

  He nodded. “They play here every week. Les Pleureurs Émouvants, or Soulful Wailers in English.”

  Alexia deliberated. She definitely wanted to watch the band, even more so if it held the possibility of a dance with Leo, but fatigue from the day was creeping up on her. Then again, it might have just been hunger.

  “Do they serve food here?”

  “Of course. Sorry, you must be starving! I’ll get some menus if you want to grab a booth at the back. You can see the stage from that corner.”

  Flashing a smile of confirmation, Alexia slipped into the shadows of the bar. Her table-hunting mission paused when the band came into view. The group blended into the space like they had been born and raised in the establishment. The lead singer’s voice was as edgy as her look; shaved head, full sleeves of tattoos, and more piercings than skin. Both the lead and bass guitarists were male. One wore a cap that covered the top of his shoulder-length hair. It seemed the other had just rolled out of bed, wearing something that could have passed for either sweatpants or pajamas. Yet they all came together, in sound and look, as one unstoppable force. The dance floor was teeming with people pumping their bodies to the beat.

  “Sure you don’t want to dance?”

  Alexia jumped at Leo’s voice in her ear, but didn’t pull away. She faced him as he handed her a glass of water. In the low lighting, his handsomeness was almost painful. The urge to kiss him again was so strong, it made her dizzy to resist. Her lust was reflected in Leo’s eyes. Alexia caught her breath, anticipating what was to come, but the guitarist sounded a loud, screeching note that tore through the moment.

  With everyone on the dance-floor, they had no difficulty finding a spare booth. Leo slid onto the bench beside her. It would have been impossible to hear anything across the table, but Alexia hoped that wasn’t the only reason behind his choice of seating.

  “Hope it’s okay that I already ordered. One of everything on the menu.”

  Alexia pulled away so he could read the surprise on her face.

  “I’m not that hungry.”

  He flashed his pearly whites in a contemptuous grin. “There are only three things on the menu.”

  “Oh,” she replied, raising her eyebrows humorously.

  Leo’s arm occasionally brushed hers, and every time they touched, she swallowed hard to keep her thoughts on track. Concentration was made worse by the allure of his cologne, so subtle Alexia considered it might have been his natural scent. Accents of vanilla were mixed with the undertone of his leather jacket. Rich, masculine, and pleasant in the way it cut through the aroma of greasy food and spilled beer that clung to the bar air. His eyes were seductive in this light, but most irresistible was his mouth—lips curved up in a wry smile, full and soft, taunting her with the memory of their touch.

  Alexia whipped her head back to the band, reprimanding herself. She needed to look further than his intense physical attractiveness. She still knew next to nothing about him.

  Not wanting to come off as invasive with questions that were too personal, she started with a subtle approach. One that aligned nicely with her interests.

  “So, how long have you known Chloe?”

  Leo scratched the side of his face. His hands were covered in smooth, olive skin.

  God, he could be a hand model. He could be an everything model. No, stop it and focus. There are words coming out of his perfect mouth.

  “Sorry?” Alexia asked, leaning in closer to pretend the bar’s deafening buzz was the reason she hadn’t heard.

  “I was saying I’ve known her for a few years.”

  There was an edge to his voice that Alexia didn’t like, and even through the dim light of the bar, the change in his expression was clear. The line of his lips flattened as his brow creased, like he was reminded of something that annoyed him. Alexia had seen that face before. It was the exact one Carrie had worn when she’d conversed with Chloe on the rooftop—dislike.

  “You don’t get along?” Alexia asked as her daydreams of double dates with Chloe and Marque faded into oblivion.

  Leo paused before replying, “We did before I really knew her.”

  The words sparked a growing discomfort in the pit of Alexia’s stomach. Although she didn’t know Chloe that well, she still felt the principal dancer was just misunderstood. Chloe’s talent came with a price; it made her the envy of others. The more Alexia understood that, the less she tried to sway the opinions of those around her. They didn’t get it. They never would. But she did, and that knowledge kindled something special between them.

  Alexia was glad the arrival of their food steered them on to a different topic.

  “Les frites, les courgettes frites, et les ailes de poulet,” the barman said as he placed baskets of french fries, fried zucchini, and chicken wings on the table.

  She smiled. “You really know how to make a girl feel at home.”

  Leo thanked the barman by name before turning back to her.

  “I’ll take you for some French onion soup another time. But for now, tell me something interesting.”

  “Like what my favorite color is?”

  “Sure. How else am I supposed to know what kind of flowers to get you?”

  Alexia paused mid-reach for a fry. “So then it’s not just a stereotype. The French really are as romantic as they’re made out to be.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You don’t like romance?”

  Alexia resumed her path for a greasy wedge, t
hinking as she chewed. “Every girl likes a bit of romance, but you’ll have to take it easy with me. I’m American. We’re not used to it. Go too hard and I might spontaneously combust.”

  “A single rose then,” he nodded.

  Alexia shook her head as she reached for another fry.

  “Okay, so tell me something else,” Leo probed. “What about your love life? I mean, I assumed you were single, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you should never assume nowadays. So I guess it’s only moral to ask. You don’t have a boyfriend across the pond, do you?” He glanced at her hand. “Husband?”

  A bit ruffled, Alexia slipped her hand under the table, even though she had nothing to hide. “I’m not that kind of person.”

  “I don’t think anyone is intentionally that kind of person. But five minutes with me and women seem to forget their whole identity. Everything past my charming face is wiped clean from their slate. It’s a curse, you know. The amount of times I’ve had boyfriends spring out of the woodworks, threatening me with a knife…”

  Leo’s straight face made it impossible to tell if he was joking, which was made worse by the fact that he did have looks to kill.

  Noticing her hesitation, he said, “You might not have romance in America, but you do have sarcasm, right?”

  Alexia scoffed. “Has anyone ever told you you’re exhausting?”

  He smiled when she did.

  “Mainly my brother, but we share the sentiment equally.”

  “I can relate,” Alexia mused as her own brother came to mind.

  Leo took a bite of chicken wing, and Alexia appreciated that he swallowed fully before answering her next question.

  “Do you only have the one sibling?”

  His golden hair bounced sensually in his nod.

  “Much to my mother’s disappointment. She always wanted a girl to dress up. Been on my tail to get married ever since I was sixteen so she can have a daughter-in-law to fill the void. So don’t take it personally if you don’t meet her anytime soon; it’s for your own good.”

  Alexia hid her flattery with a laugh.

  “And all your family is in Paris?”

  Leo’s lips pursed as if hesitant to answer. “They have an apartment in the city, but their main residence is just outside, near Versailles.”

  Alexia wasn’t surprised. She’d guessed his family was wealthy from his father’s interest in the high-end restaurant scene. It didn’t faze her though, and she showed it with a shrug.

  “Do you still live with them?”

  He snorted like the suggestion was preposterous.

  “With my father? Absolutely not. Moved in with my brother the day I turned eighteen. We share an apartment not far from here.”

  Envisioning his empty room was unintentional, but Alexia couldn’t help herself. She wondered which pictures hung on his walls, what books decorated the shelves, the color of his sheets…what it would be like to lie in them. She turned back to the band, taking a long sip of water in hopes the ice would cool her burning cheeks.

  “Sure you don’t want to dance?”

  Alexia waited for her flush to fade before facing him.

  Dance? She wanted to rip his clothes off. But Mrs. Beaumont’s face floated to mind like an angel on her shoulder, and Alexia sighed the troubling sigh of a responsible adult. She wasn’t in Paris to drink gin martinis, or to be swept off her feet by gorgeous men. She was here to give a once in a lifetime performance, a fact she too readily forgot these days.

  Her reply was pained. “I would more than anything, but if I don’t get some sleep tonight, I’ll be booed off the stage tomorrow. And please don’t take this as an excuse, because it’s not. I really need to step up my game.”

  To her relief, there wasn’t a shadow of doubt cast over Leo’s face. He reached for her hand to express understanding, but his touch slingshotted her mind back to the fantasy of his bed. Suddenly, his hand on hers wasn’t enough. Alexia inched closer, pressing into his jacket first, then into his face. Wrapped in the shadows of the back booth, they remained intertwined until Alexia’s head grew light and the band faded from focus. Lost in that moment, she wished time would stop, but being the gentlemen he was, Leo detached himself eventually with a dazed smile.

  “Come on then, I won’t have you ruining your career on my account.”

  Alexia stood from the booth, grateful for Leo’s arm around her waist. When they tore through the city this time, she leaned against his back, enjoying the closeness, even if it wasn’t as intimate as she would have liked. Before she knew it they were back at the hotel, a strange happening that she was unable to put down to the speed of the bike alone. Alexia had entered the time warp of lust; all moments with Leo now passed in the blink of an eye, and those without, painfully slow.

  He dismounted the bike to give her one last kiss goodbye. When he pulled away, her heart was everywhere except in her chest—it had been stolen by the night, by the city, by Leo.

  “You still owe me a dance,” he winked.

  “That’s what you’re going to dangle over my head?”

  “If it works…”

  It might have been the bike, or their earlier charade at the restaurant, but Alexia couldn’t suppress one last daring urge.

  “How about Friday? There’s a masquerade ball after the show…if you’re free.”

  “Does that mean I get to watch you dance?”

  Alexia rubbed her forehead, wishing she had bitten her tongue. After years of performing, her stage fright had been squashed long ago, but it always resurfaced when a love interest was in the crowd. Dancing was when she was most vulnerable, and the thought of Leo seeing her in that state made her squirm.

  As if the possibility of her being insecure was ludicrous, Leo tossed back his head to laugh.

  “Better get practicing then,” he teased as he mounted his bike.

  Alexia lifted her hand to wave as his headlight penetrated the shadows between streetlights. She stayed there, absorbed in thought, long after he vanished into the night. Even though Leo had said it as a joke, she couldn’t shake his earlier words.

  Five minutes with me and they forget their whole identity.

  She couldn’t forget them because she now saw their truth. In one night, Leo Durand had turned her whole world upside down.

  CHAPTER 7

  The ringing of Alexia’s phone woke her before her alarm clock the following morning. She reached for it, thankful she had stuck to her guns and not drunk the night before. Staying sober was so underrated.

  Carrie’s name flashed across the screen.

  “Hey,” Alexia answered.

  “Is he with you? Say yes or no.”

  “No!”

  “Relax, would you? No judgement here. In fact, I’m disappointed you let a hotel room like that go to waste.”

  Alexia coughed to clear the sleep from her voice. “Full disclosure, if I didn’t need to be on my A-game for rehearsal, he would have been here.”

  Carrie’s smile carried through her tone. “So it went well, huh?”

  Alexia fell back against the pillow, sprawling her free arm across the bed.

  “It was amazing. He is amazing.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. He seemed nice at the party…” Carrie drifted off, as though she were trying to tread carefully. “Was different from the others.”

  Alexia shot upright, pressing the phone closer to her ear.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Oh, you know, he just seemed like he could think for himself. Didn’t succumb to the peer pressure of…others.”

  “Just say it, Carrie. The peer pressure of Chloe.”

  A loud sigh flowed down the line. “You have to admit, the girl has a certain charm. All I’m saying is that I’m glad Leo isn’t a victim to it.”

  “Victim to it? You’re talking about her like she’s a serial killer. You know, I actually feel sorry for Chloe. No one likes her because everyone’s jealous of her.”
r />   “Jealous? I’m the opposite of jealous. I don’t even want to hang out with her.”

  “Exactly! And why not?”

  “I just don’t like her attitude. Look, I’m sorry, Alexia. I know you like her. She just gives me this vibe…” Carrie trailed off, granting Alexia time to take a few deep breaths.

  They don’t understand, and they never will. Without living and breathing the art of ballet, it’s hard to appreciate the full extent of Chloe’s talent.

  “You don’t have to be friends with her,” Alexia said through clenched teeth. “All I’m asking is that you respect my decision to be. I can learn a lot from her.”

  Carrie mumbled something that sounded like, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Nothing. Have fun at rehearsal, okay? Amy made us a reservation at a Japanese restaurant that a friend of her cousin owns. We can pick you up at seven?”

  “Oh—I’d love to, but…”

  I’m hanging out with Chloe.

  “…but I’m going out with Leo again.”

  Alexia squirmed at the lie, however the last thing she wanted to do was bring Chloe back into the conversation. Thankfully, Carrie fell for it.

  “Two nights in a row? That’s bold.”

  Nervous laughter followed. “Turns out the French really are hopeless romantics.”

  “Okay, well, let us know how it goes.”

  “Will do. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  “You bet.”

  As soon as she hung up, Alexia felt the need to shower—to wash away her sins. Blasting the water to maximum pressure, it didn’t take long for the room to haze with steam. When she stepped out, the mirror was fogged, blurring her reflection from focus.

  * * *

  Rehearsal that day was Alexia’s best to date, and no one failed to notice.

  “You’ve really kicked your jet lag, eh?” Kelly whispered to her backstage at the end of one of her numbers. “You’re killing it.”

  Alexia lifted her shoulders modestly. “I’m still nowhere near as good as—” Her eyes flashed to Chloe. “As some of the other dancers.”