Filthy English (24 page)

THE MORNING AFTER
Remi moved in, I got up around seven to meet Declan at the gym. He was training hard for an upcoming MMA exhibition in Charlotte, and he’d picked me as his training partner.
More like punching bag,
I smirked as I cranked my Range Rover and left the house. I stopped at Starbucks, grabbed some items, and ran them back to the house for Remi. Then I sat down and wrote her a note.

Last night after Remi had gone upstairs and gone to bed and Axel and the girls had left, I’d found myself standing outside Remi’s door. Dying to talk to her and I had no freaking explanation for it. With my hand on her door, I’d stood there for an agonizing ten minutes, debating on whether or not to knock.

My hands had touched her doorknob, my fingers itching to turn the handle and walk inside. I needed to apologize, to beg her to forgive me for my stupid comments in the bathroom.

But . . .

I had no right to even consider going into her private room when she was asleep. In fact, I was being a stalker by even standing outside her door because she was nothing to me. Not even a friend anymore.

Just a bloody roommate.

She was the only girl I’d ever talked to about Mum, the only girl I’d ever fake-married, the only girl I’d ever made love to . . .

I walked away, tearing myself away from the door that stood between us.

Hartford stood between us too.

The best thing to do was to move on—be the usual goodtime Dax and forget about us in London.

I gritted my teeth and forced thoughts of her away.

Thank God I was going to the gym because I needed to punch something.

I walked into Front Street Gym. The older lady at the front desk—Maria—gave me a quick wave and a smile. Declan had hired her in May when he’d had the grand opening.

“Hey! How’s the house?” she asked.

I grinned. “Got a fresh coat of paint on it and a roommate. It’s all good.”

She cocked her head. “Hmmm, Declan said you might be open to selling.”

“Absolutely. You buying a house soon?” I’d been headed toward Declan who was in the back with a private client, but I backed up. Prospects.

“No, but my sister is looking for a place since her divorce—tired of her small apartment, I guess.” She tapped a pen on the desk.

I leaned on the counter and gave her my full attention. “Really. What’s she looking for?” I knew what I liked in a home—but if I wanted to buy and sell, I’d need to think about the customer.

She thought about it. “She loves a big kitchen since she likes to cook.” Her eyes brightened. “Oh, she has three grandkids, so a big yard and extra bedrooms would be great.”

I nodded. Hmmm. “Give me a few months to get it fixed up and I’d love to show it to her.” I pulled a white business card out of my gym bag that Declan had suggested I have made at a local printer. Stamped in black was my name, the address of the house, and cell number. Simple but it got the point across. I smiled as I handed it over to her.

I said goodbye and headed inside the gym. Organized chaos, Front Street was crowded already, and I weaved between the mats and sparring ring for the running room. I’d already seen Declan working with one of his private clients near the back. Waiting for him to wrap up, I hopped on an elliptical and ran a quick five miles. With the endorphins and adrenaline coursing through my blood, I immediately felt better than I had last night.

Declan ambled over soon after, but wanted to reschedule, saying that Elizabeth wanted to meet him for lunch. He smiled when he told me, and I figured “lunch” was in their small apartment in the back of the gym. We chatted a bit longer, mostly him giving me advice about my upcoming classes. I listened, but it was tough because everything had always come easy for him.

After he left, I moved to the leg presses. Using my heels, I pushed the weight up slowly then let it fall. I’d gotten in about twenty reps when I noticed a girl coming in the door dressed in bright-pink athletic wear.

Eva-Maria.
The little sister who’d bullied Remi.

I let the weight clang to the footrest, jumped up and wiped my face with a towel, and strode over to her.

She was leaning over talking to a girl on the butterfly machine when I came up behind her.

I halted a few feet away. “Eva-Maria.”

She flicked her eyes over her shoulder and then completely pivoted, a huge grin on her face. “Oh my God. Dax Blay. I have been missing you at the house. Where have you been?” She wiggled over to me and threw her arms around my shoulders.

I untangled her.

She pouted. “Aren’t you missing me? I hear you got a house now. Why don’t you let me plan a big party for you?”

I studied her. She was pretty enough with pale blonde hair and nice curves, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember a specific thing about her under those clothes. I couldn’t tell you if her skin was soft, if her nipples were big or small, or if the carpet matched the drapes. At best, she was second rate, and I’d been with her more times than I cared to recall my sophomore year.

She’d never really cared about me.

And that was exactly what I’d wanted.

Because love equaled pain.

“Dax? Are you listening to me? I was just telling you about the bonfire the brothers are putting together.”

I waved her off. Of course I knew—but that was not what I wanted to discuss. “You know Remi Montague, right?”

She arched her brows. “Yeah. I’ve seen her at mixers. She’s been dating Hartford forever—although the rumor mill says they’re not engaged anymore.” She laughed.

“They are engaged,” I spat.

“Okaaay.”

“Do you remember egging her dorm room door or putting sticky notes all over her car with
slut
written on it? Maybe you recall the lies you told about her to all your girlfriends.”

She swung her ponytail back, a haughty expression on her face. “Whatever. I did those things, but I didn’t tell lies about her. I only told the truth. She
was
naked in your bed, and she did end up pregnant—”

“What?” My stomach dropped.

She frowned and looked around the room as if people might be listening. Uneasiness crossed her face. “Um, I assumed she told you.”

My head pounded, and I rubbed it. “She didn’t tell me anything. What—how do you know for sure? She’d never tell you that.”

“Her suitemate told me she’d been sick as a dog and throwing up every morning. A bit later, she found a positive pregnancy test in the trash in the bathroom, and Remi had been the last one in the room. The entire dorm floor knew something was up with her because she missed a ton of classes that month and never came out of her room. Lulu told everyone she had mono, but we all assumed that was a cover story.” She grimaced. “Maybe it wasn’t yours. I—I just figured it was since I’d seen you two together.”

The room spun. I stumbled over to one of the chairs in the waiting area as far from the front desk as I could get.

She. Had. Been. Pregnant.

Was it true?
I shut my eyes. Fuck. It explained so much. Why she’d hated me for dating other girls right after her. Why she’d never so much as made eye contact with me.

Eva-Maria took the seat next to me. “Are you okay?”

“What happened to the baby?” I pushed out, feeling out of breath.

She lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know—but she met Hartford soon after that.”

I leaned my head back against the wall, trying to get under control.

She said, “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but at least you don’t have to deal with Remi and kid for the rest of your life. Can you imagine?” She laughed.

My eyes flew open. “Never say her name again. If you see her coming, turn around and walk the fuck away. Leave her alone.”

Red rose in her cheeks. “I didn’t realize you cared so much.” She smiled uncertainly. “It’s obvious you’re wound up. Word among the sisters is you aren’t very accommodating these days.” Her eyes ghosted over my crotch.

A muscle twitched near my eye. My lips went flat. “I’m one step away from calling a meeting and getting you kicked out of the house. Now, get out of my sight and don’t come back to my brother’s gym.”

She whitened. “Dax. I’m sorry—”

“Get out.”

She licked her lips, sent me a final look, turned, and left the gym.

For half an hour, I sat in that seat, twisting different scenarios and outcomes from three years ago around in my head. I recalled every single moment I’d seen her.

But nothing—
nothing
hinted at her being pregnant.

Obviously, the baby never came unless she’d hidden it under baggy clothes and delivered in May, which would make sense if she’d gotten pregnant in September.

God.

I rubbed my face.

Did her mom have the baby?

Had she given it up for adoption? Abortion?

And Hartford—he wouldn’t have dated a pregnant Remi.

Wait. Would he? Did he love her that much?

Why not?

You’d do it too if the baby wasn’t yours. You love Remi.

My spine went ramrod straight from where I’d been slumped over the chair, raking my hands through my hair. Goosebumps rose over my skin.

That was not true
.

Yet how did I explain my reaction to her and Hartford at the hotel? Why did I give a fuck if she was back with him? Why had I wanted her to live with me?

Right there in the foyer of Front Street Gym, I picked my life apart, digging deep for the bones I never let anyone see, even Declan.

I’d been a player for four years—further if you went back to high school. For years, I’d been a master at drifting in and out of girls’ beds and lives, each girl a dance of one step forward and two steps back. I pushed real relationships away and had never looked back. Yet when Remi shut that door in my face three years ago,
I’d fucking flinched
—because the naïve boy in me who’d believed in love had craved her. My gut had seen something that weekend, our connection a live wire so hot that I knew if I took hold of it, I’d be fried.

In my head that day, I’d wanted to chase her down the Tau hall and drag her back like a Neanderthal. I’d wanted to tell her she was weird as shit, but in a good way that got me hot.

You should have,
my heart said.

But I didn’t.

Self-preservation had kicked in, protecting me from being demolished. Maybe she’d figure out how shallow I was or that I’d barely passed Geometry. She’d leave me for someone with a bigger brain. Like Hartford.

Maybe she’d die like Mum.

My hands clenched.

Fuck that.

No matter what, I never wanted that awful feeling again when you lose someone, like an SUV has been dropped off a skyscraper straight onto your chest.

But this baby thing?

I had to get to the bottom of it. I had to know what happened; what she went through.

If it had been mine.

Fuck that.
You know it was yours,
my heart told me. She wasn’t the kind of girl who slept with random guys one after another. You’d been her exception.

MY MOM FOLLOWED
Malcolm and me as we left her house and headed out to my car. She was mostly a good mom and wanted the best for me, but her micromanaging had driven a wedge between us over the years.

She tsked from behind me. “Your hair looks like it’s on fire. What will your professors think? Don’t forget you still need recommendations for Duke next year.”

I sighed. She’d been picking at me on and off since I’d arrived at the house to pick up Malcolm.

Flip-flops? Really?

You’re getting chunky.

I can’t believe you’re living with a man you barely know.

Oh, I definitely knew him.

Wonder what she’d think if I showed her my Union Jack tattoo? Probably have a heart attack then drag me down to the doctor’s office to have it lasered off.

However—she
had
done something wonderful for me, and I attempted to keep that in mind rather than her harping.

While I’d been in London, she’d demanded a meeting with the manager of the hotel where my wedding had been planned and somehow convinced them to give me back my ten-grand deposit.
Go, Mom.
Like me, she was tenacious and once she’d set her mind to something, you could be damn sure she wasn’t going to give up.