Filthy English (20 page)

A few minutes later, I sensed more than heard movement behind me, and I paused, my skin prickling. I couldn’t tell you why except that it had to have been a sixth sense or a gut feeling.
Fuck.

“Hey, you have someone here about the house,” Elizabeth said.

“Dax?” a hesitant voice asked.

Shit, shit, shit.

That voice.
Remi.

And when she said my name like that, as if the word actually hurt, my chest constricted.

Schooling my features into a mask, I turned around. My eyes ran over her, taking in the fiery hair and the bruised look in her eyes. I smirked and smiled cockily. “Hey there, angel.”

A slow blush stole up from her neck to her face, and she looked down, refusing to meet my intense gaze—that was fine because my eyes were on the arsehole beside her.

I RANG THE
doorbell and a blonde girl answered, wearing cut-off shorts and a gray tank top that read
Front Street Gym
. She looked vaguely familiar, but I was too unfocused to pin it down.

Since arriving back from London, I’d spent the last few days scouring every apartment building, duplex, trailer, and rental within a few miles of Whitman. Everything was rented already or in a shitty neighborhood. If I could get this house, I’d win the freaking lottery. I crossed my fingers, hoping the roommate was just as nice as the house.

If this didn’t work out, I’d be forced to live with my mother and drive sixty miles’ round trip each day to class. Not to mention listening to my mom berate me about my weight, what I wore, what time I got up, how late I stayed up, and who I hung out with.

Clutching the advertisement from the Whitman website I’d printed off, I let out a breath, feeling the urge to vomit.

“Can I help you?” the pretty girl standing at the door asked.

“Um, you asked for a roommate and I’m applying. I even have the first month’s rent and a deposit ready today—that is if you haven’t found anyone yet.” I sent her a hopeful look.

Classes did start in two days.

She blinked, her eyes raking over my two companions, Malcolm and Hartford, then landing back on me, taking in the blunt cut hair, denim sundress and yellow flats.

I smiled, indicating the guys with me. “This is Hartford, a student at Whitman, and my brother, Malcolm. They tagged along with me to check it out.”

Wearing a light blue polo shirt and khaki shorts, Hartford nodded and smiled. “Hi, I think we’ve had a class or two together.”

Yep. There he was. My missing fiancé who’d arrived at my hotel six days earlier and tossed me into an emotional tailspin.

He’d knocked on my door, gone to his knees, and pleaded with me to take him back. Tears had been shed.

“You’ll always be the girl for me,”
he promised, and the only reason he’d gotten cold feet was because he was afraid we were too young to make such a big commitment.

And the pretty blonde girl on Instagram? She’d happened to be at Cadillac’s while he was there and nothing had happened between them.

Basically, by the time I’d disappeared to London, the perfect guy had decided he couldn’t live without me.

Everything I’d wanted was back within my grasp.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,”
my mom kept telling me.

Of course, we weren’t getting married anytime soon, but I couldn’t toss away our relationship either. We’d spent more than two years together and had a lot of memories. Good ones.

I got pulled back to the present when I noticed Malcolm snapping his fingers, one of the repetitive movements he used to alleviate stress. Meeting new people made him jittery, although most times it was the other person who got intimidated. At sixteen, he was already six-one with lean muscles and prone to say whatever popped in his head. His blue eyes bounced from me to Hartford and then back to the blonde.

He nodded, curly brown hair bouncing. “I’m Malcolm, and I want to see where Remi will live.”

“
Maybe
I’ll live here,” I told him gently. “We have to take a look first and see if it works out. Someone may have beat me to it.”

The girl smiled, making her even prettier. “No, it hasn’t been filled. Come in, please. I’m not the one who lives here, but I’ll introduce you to the person who owns the place. We’ve been moving in for the past couple of days, so it may be a bit messy.” She took a step back to let us enter. “I’m Elizabeth, by the way.”

“Remi,” I said with a nod, realizing I’d been so scattered I hadn’t even told her my name.

We all filed inside the small ceramic-tiled foyer that opened into a spacious area with an old brick fireplace, freshly waxed hardwood floors, and a pretty bay window with the panes cut into small diamond shapes. A faded couch, a navy leather recliner, and a gray media center with a huge television took up most of the den. Except for the couch, most of the furnishings looked new. The house smelled of tart lemons, perhaps from cleaning, and fresh paint. Whoever owned it took pride in it.

So far, so good, Remi.

A tall, heavily muscled man wearing a black baseball hat was on a ladder in the center of the den hanging a ceiling fan, but came down as we entered the room. He greeted us warmly, but that wasn’t what caught my eye. Nope. My eyes got tangled up on the small dragonfly tattoo on his neck.

And the chiseled jawline, straight nose, and piercing gray eyes.

Dread pooled in my stomach.

“Hiya,” he said and put his hand out to me. “I’m Declan.”

His familiar British accent sent goosebumps over my skin, and I gripped the straps of my purse as if it were a lifeline.
God help me.

Stuffing down the urge to make a dash for the car, I stuck my hand out and shook his firm grip. “I’m—I’m Remi Montague. I’m here about the ad for a roommate.” I waved the printout, noticing my hand was shaking.

Hartford sent me a quizzical glance. I tried to smile.

Hartford and Declan shook hands. Everyone on campus knew Declan—and Dax.

“This house yours?” Hartford asked with a slight frown, no doubt because while Declan hadn’t been a Tau, everyone knew his brother was the poster boy for the fraternity.

“Nah,” Declan said but didn’t elaborate, careful eyes on Hartford. Apparently the rivalry extended to family too.

The blonde girl put her hand lightly on my shoulder, and I realized she’d said my name a few times. “ . . . want to follow me?”

Feeling numb yet oddly excited, I nodded, and she led us down a small hall, turned a corner, and we entered the kitchen.

With faded oak cabinets that had seen better days, a round table with orange vinyl-covered metal chairs, and a brand new stainless steel refrigerator, it was a mix of old and new.

But the only thing in the room that held my attention was Dax, standing with his back to us, legs slightly parted as he washed dishes at the sink. Wearing low-slung jeans, his ass flexed as he moved, his shoulders broader than I remembered.

My body felt thin as if I might float away, and my heart pounded so loud I was sure he heard it. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been between my legs, sweat dripping as he pinned me down to the bed.

“You have someone here about the house,” Elizabeth said.

“Dax?” I pushed out.

Without turning, he dried his hands off and leaned over to turn down the low beat of rap music coming from his phone. He pivoted to face us, and everything I’d been battling with since he’d left London came roaring back to the surface. Anger and heartbreak reared up, all the memories from London flashing through my head. I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep it all in.

He’d screwed me in London, literally, and I’d fallen for his games.
When would I learn?

Cold-stone eyes flicked over Hartford, Malcolm, and then landed on me, sweeping me from head to foot. “Hey there, angel.”

At the sound of his voice, I wanted to sink into the floor, a barrage of emotions hitting me. I hadn’t been prepared to see him. Not so soon.

Dismissing me, he gazed back at Hartford, and they glared at each other warily, two different specimens: one built and dark, the other lean and blond. The tension stretched like a rubber band, and if they’d had swords, they might have pulled them out.

Thank God Hartford had never known about Dax and me freshman year.

It was Hartford who broke the ice, his face expressionless. “Had no idea this was your house, Blay . . .”

“Or you wouldn’t have come?” Dax smirked.

“Yeah,” Hartford replied with an unapologetic shrug.

I touched Hartford’s arm. “Dax rescued me from the guy who mugged me in London. Remember?”

“Of course,” he said to me gently and touched my face. Looking back at Dax, he sent him a nod. “Remington took me by the club where it happened. Glad you were there to help out.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “I’m still blaming myself for letting her leave town, and if anything had happened to her, I don’t know if I could have stood it.” His hazel eyes came back and found mine. I smiled tentatively.

“Yeah, I took care of her. Isn’t that right,
Remington
?” Dax replied tightly, his eyes searching my face. A muscle jerked in his cheek when our eyes met, his body rigid as a piece of steel. His hands curled, and he looked as if he wanted to smash something.

I was confused.
What had
I
done?

I bit my lip, hoping Hartford wouldn’t notice. Because this—this wasn’t just a fraternity thing.

Malcolm’s wide-eyed gaze bounced from me to Dax, a questioning look on his face. I sent him my
it’s okay
smile
.
Social cues were his weakness, but when it came to me, he didn’t miss much.

But then it was as if Dax threw a switch because his entire demeanor changed. With careful movements, he removed his apron, hung it on a hook, and leaned back against the counter as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He let out a long sigh and crossed his legs.

“So you’re here about the apartment?” he murmured, flicking his eyes at the paper I had in my hand.

“She can’t live with you,” Hartford said, his tone cool.

Dax tossed back his head and laughed. “Dude, chill out. I saved your girl’s arse. Plus, I was asking
her
, not you.” His head swiveled to me. “Remi?”

“I was, but obviously, we aren’t a good match . . .”

His lashes dropped then opened. “Why not? Aren’t we
friends
?”

I shifted on my feet. “I—I’m afraid we might not mesh.”

Hartford said, “She doesn’t want to live with a guy, Blay, that’s all.”
Especially a Tau
went unsaid. “We’re grateful for London but were hoping for a female roommate.”

Dax harrumphed. “School starts in two days. Good luck. But I get where you’re coming from. You’re worried I’ll be making a pass at your girl, but
attached
females aren’t my thing. Plus, I’ll be studying a lot—gotta graduate this year, ya know—and helping my brother at his gym. Who knows? I’ll probably end up sleeping most nights at the Tau house.”

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty there to keep you entertained,” I replied smartly.

Hartford didn’t seem to notice my slip-up or perhaps he chalked it up to typical rivalry talk, but I’d never been one to get in on the boys’ disputes.

“No doubt,” Dax agreed softly.

Elizabeth, who’d been steadily drying the dishes since we started talking, turned around. “If you need a reference for Dax, I’d be happy to vouch for him. You couldn’t find a sweeter roommate.” Smiling, she dropped her dishtowel over the sink. “If you guys will excuse me, I think I hear Declan calling for me from the den.”

As she walked out, it gave Hartford the chance to pull me to the side. He kept his voice low. “Just live with me, Remi—at least until you find a decent place.”

We’d had this conversation a hundred times. Yes, we were working things out, but jumping right back into the same place we’d been would be a disaster.

“That’s not a good idea,” I said as quietly as I could, but it was clear Dax listened intently, his head cocked to the side.

“You can’t live with . . . Dax,” Hartford said after a long exhale. “I’d rather you stayed with your mom. I’d definitely worry less.”