Filthy English (23 page)

The brunette sat next to Axel, also a Tau, while the blonde sat between Dax’s legs, a smile of satisfaction on her face. She looked like all the girls Dax went for—blonde, petite, slutty.

We said hi to everyone. Axel introduced the girls to me; the brunette was Bettina and the blonde was Alexandria.

“Did Hartford get you all situated?” Axel said with a smile. He was a popular football player; I didn’t know him well, but the general consensus on campus was he was nice to everyone.

I smiled back. “Yes, and thank you for helping.”

Dax never glanced at me, his eyes on the tequila label he currently peeled. His other hand rested on Alexandria’s inner thigh.

I tore my eyes from them.

“I still have some unpacking, but it’s a huge relief to have the hard stuff done,” I announced, even though it seemed the only ones listening were Axel and the girls. “This house is great. I love the craftsman style and the big porch. My favorite is the stone chimney . . .” I stopped. Sighed. I was rambling.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Axel said, eyeing Dax with an unsure look on his face. “Um, do you guys want to join us for a drink? We’ve been toasting the house.”

“Several times,” added Bettina, giving Axel a big kiss on his cheek.

“No, but thank you,
Axel
,” I said, shooting daggers at Dax. How could he completely ignore us? If this was any indication of how he was going to treat me, I wouldn’t last a week.

“I thought you liked tequila,” Dax said, his voice low but still not looking at me.

I startled. “I—yes.”

At Hartford’s questioning glance, I said. “At the club in London, I was upset about everything that had happened here . . .” I paused. No need to announce that Hartford had dumped me. “Dax, um, saw me drinking tequila.”

“Ah,” he said, his hand holding mine tighter. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

I smiled.

Axel glanced at my ring. “Did you guys set a date?”

I groaned inwardly. He probably had no idea that we’d had a date but canceled it. He was just making conversation.

“Soon,” Hartford said, his eyes on Dax’s bent head. “Remington’s the love of my life.”

Dax’s hands tightened on the bottle of Patrón. I might have missed it, but I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off him. I tore them away.

Axel grinned good-naturedly, completely clueless. “Damn, man, that’s cool.” He glanced at Dax. “Dude, maybe we need to find us a girl like Remi and settle down, huh?”

The girl next to Axel popped him on the arm. “Hello. Right here.”

He laughed and kissed her on the nose, making her giggle.

Dax’s face rose, his eyes piercing me. “Meh. I prefer my life the way it is.
Easy peasy
.”

My heart squeezed.
I know,
it said.

“Drinking and partying never gets old, does it?” Axel agreed with a laugh.

“Indeed, it doesn’t.” Dax said, taking another shot.

I needed to put some space between us.

I cleared my throat. “Okay, I guess we’ll go. Hartford’s heading out and I’m going to crash. This day has been—hard.”

“That’s what she said,” Dax chimed in with a sly grin at the girls and they giggled. He flashed his eyes at Hartford. “I figured you’d be sleeping over, mate . . .”

Hartford frowned. “I’ll take a rain check on that. I’ve got family coming in from out of town tomorrow for my sister’s eighteenth birthday dinner. We’re having a big to-do at the house.”

“How sweet,” Dax murmured and flicked a glance at me. “You going?”

I blinked at the question. “Uh, no. I—I have plans that I can’t change.”

Hartford sighed, giving me a disappointed glance.

I squirmed. Hartford had invited me to his family get-together, but I’d passed since I was taking care of Malcolm tomorrow. I didn’t miss those days for anything. Since my dad had died, I had tried my hardest to fill his shoes the best I could.

Alexandria, who’d been listening to our conversation but saying nothing, turned and pulled Dax’s face to hers. “You’re ignoring me. I need some attention. All this talk is making me sleepy.”

“We can’t have that.” He grinned and she leaned in and kissed him, pressing her mouth against his, her hand on his cheek. It was a deeply passionate kiss that went on way too long, but I forced myself to watch.

See, Remi. He treats every girl the same. Kisses them all. Fucks them all.

Hartford said his goodbyes, and we used the glow of the floodlights to walk around the house and make our way over to his Lexus at the curb.

He reclined against the passenger-side door and pulled me to his chest. His sandy hair blew in the wind, and I ran my fingers through it. With the streetlight hitting his face, his eyes were more golden than I’d ever seen them. Warmth came from his gaze.

He gathered me close. “God, I’m so glad you’re back in Raleigh.”

“Yeah . . .” I trailed off.

His lips tightened ever so slightly.

“What?” I asked.

A long exhale came out. “I don’t know. Something just feels off with us.” His eyes went back toward the house. “And Dax is sending off weird vibes.”

“You can’t expect to snap your fingers and things go back to the way they were for us, and I can’t explain Dax except that you guys aren’t exactly buddies.”

“Just—tell me something.”

“What?”

He cupped my face, his gaze earnest. “Tell me you love me. You haven’t since we broke up.”

I hadn’t been ready to. But, what was I waiting for?

I let out a breath. “I do love you. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

He pressed his forehead against mine, a torn expression on his face. “We should be married right now and living at my place. I want you back—all the way and in my bed. Don’t you want that?”

My fingers played with the diamond on my finger, twisting it around, my heart heavy.

He kissed me on the nose. “Am I putting too much pressure on you?”

I nodded.

Seeming satisfied with this, he pressed his lips to mine one more time, told me he’d text me later, got in his car, and drove away.

Once his taillights were gone, I came back in, and since they were all outside, I did a quick tour of the downstairs. There were two more bedrooms, a bathroom, the kitchen, and a tiny laundry room closet in the hall. Dax’s bedroom was just off the den, a big room with a king-sized bed with a white down duvet—unmade of course, the covers kicked down to the foot. A cluttered nightstand sat next to the bed with papers, schoolbooks, and a photograph I couldn’t make out no matter how long I squinted. Knowing it was wrong but not caring, I tiptoed inside his room.

Drawn to his bed, I trailed my fingers along the velvet soft duvet. The sheets were white and soft as silk. I smiled. Leave it to Dax to have the best bedding imaginable.

I zoomed in on the picture on the nightstand. It was of Dax and Declan as young boys, maybe around nine or ten. Between them was a tall lady with dark hair and a bright smile on her face. Had to be his mom because the resemblance was uncanny. They sat under a tree and Dax’s head leaned into her shoulder, as if he wanted to be even closer. A mischievous smile played across his face.

Pain cut through me at the way her hands clutched around each of them as if she’d known she was dying. It was obvious she’d adored them—yet death comes for us all, no matter the sweet life we have.

And you never get used to them being gone.

Dax hadn’t. I hadn’t.

We just dealt with it in different ways; I wanted security, while he wanted a guarded heart.

With a sigh, I set the frame back down and stepped over a mound of video games and movies to peek inside his closet. It was wide open, and I saw that his clothes were neatly organized, his extensive collection of jeans hanging on the bottom while the shirts were hung by color.

Looks like I wasn’t the only one who had an issue with OCD.

A door from somewhere in the house opened and shut.

I froze.
Eeeek.
Tip-toeing around the spots of clutter, I dashed into the hallway and did a quickstep into the kitchen.

Dax had his back to me at the refrigerator as he held the door open and peered inside.

A few seconds ticked by and he remained motionless, his legs slightly apart as he stood there.

Should I say something?

He exhaled as his free hand rubbed his forehead.

Five more seconds went by. Then ten. At twenty, he said “
Fuck this,”
slammed the door shut, and strode out the back door without even noticing I was there.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of a sparrow outside my window, singing a loud stuttering song.

This birdie sounded annoyed. I knew exactly how it felt.

I crawled out of bed and plodded over to the window. Peeking through the blinds, I saw Dax’s black Range Rover was gone from the small driveway to the right of the house. He’d driven a Beamer for the past few years, but had traded it in last semester. Parked on the street by the curb was my older model Toyota Highlander.

My phone buzzed. Glancing down, I saw a pic of Malcolm eating a pickle spear along with a bowl of Captain Crunch.

I giggled. Every other Saturday was our day—and sometimes Sundays, depending on how much my mom needed to get done. With her working now, she spent her weekends doing housework, laundry, or just running to the grocery.

Ready for you to pick me up,
he texted.

Be there in an hour,
I replied.

Where are we going?

Where do you want to go?

I want to hang at your house. I like Dax. He’s cool.

He’s something,
I said.

Yeah? What?

I laughed out loud. God, I loved him, especially when he didn’t get my jokes.

I showered quickly, threw on a pair of shorts, a Whitman tee, and flip-flops. My hair was too short for a high ponytail, so I spent time blowing it dry and then straightening it so it swung around my neck.

I popped in the kitchen to scrounge for a breakfast bar I’d stashed in the cabinet the night before, but came to a halt. To my surprise, on the table rested an envelope, a bag with the top folded down, and a drink carrier with two large Starbucks cups with lids.

I gingerly picked up the envelope, flipped it over, and saw my name had been scrawled in lopsided handwriting. My hands tore it open.

Remi,

I’m bloody sorry for last night. You’re right. I’m a douche. Please forgive me. What I said was wrong, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I swear it will never happen again. I don’t have a coffee pot yet, and I didn’t know what you liked, so I picked up a regular coffee and a latte. They may be cold by the time you see this. There’s cream and sugar in the bag along with some breakfast.

Dax

P.S. A key to the front and back door is under the mat out front.

FYI: I’ll be home late tonight.

I plopped down in the nearest chair, staring at the paper, my fingers running over his signature. Like him, it was expressive with a big swoop on the end of the x.

I considered writing him a reply on the back, but in the end I didn’t.

I didn’t know what I’d say.

Opening the bag, I saw three chocolate donuts and a giant sugar cookie. My mouth watered, and I realized I’d never eaten dinner. After warming up the latte in the microwave, I stuffed a donut in my mouth, grabbed my keys, and headed out to see my mom and Malcolm.

I’d worry about Dax later.