Dirty English

While I was driving home, an idea struck.

With determined steps, I went into the extra bedroom. I unpacked my jewelry tools from their boxes and spread them out on the desk, running my fingers across the cold sheet metal.

A shift occurred inside me, small yet significant, something that had been building for the past few weeks. I let go of the constant control I kept over myself, and suddenly my fingers itched. To create.

I looked deep inside myself and asked tough questions.

Where was my power?

Where was my belief in myself?

It was here all along , a small voice said.

Using 18-gauge sheet metal, I measured one of the bigger ring sizes on the metal that I thought would fit him. Without thinking too much about the significance of it, I etched one of the dragonfly designs I’d drawn earlier to what would be the inside of his ring. After that, I used my saw to cut out the band, filed it, and then used my butane torch to make the metal more pliable. I pickled the piece with vinegar and hot water, getting rid of some of the oxidation on the surface. Next, I used my pliers to shape it into a circle and then soldered it with my torch to connect the edges. After pickling it again and filing and sanding down the seam, I slipped it on a metal rod and began the hammering process, the tinkling sound echoing through my apartment. The last step was to toss the ring in my jewelry tumbler and let it roll around, getting polished. I took it out and set the ring down on my nightstand to dry.

I stared at it with deep satisfaction. He’d have a small piece of me even if he didn’t want my heart anymore.

My phone pinged, reminding me that I had dinner plans with Blake and Shelley. Shelley had said a band was playing, so I spent extra time getting ready, putting on my newly altered pink dress and a pair of silver strappy heels. It was a bit overboard for the restaurant, but I didn’t care.

That dress was my armor, proof I was changing a little bit every day.

At the last minute, I ran back to the bedroom and straight to the jewelry box, I found a chain, slipped Declan’s ring on it, and clasped it around my neck.

Perhaps I would never give it to him, but I wanted it against my skin.

When I walked out, I saw his Jeep in the lot. Before I could second-guess myself, I knocked on his door. Emotion was clawing at my chest, and I was teetering on the edge of— what?

What was I going to say?

Was I going to beg him to give me another chance?

Maybe.

But he never answered.

“WHOA, LOVE,” SAID a male voice. “You better slow down there or you’ll fall.” Strong, tattooed arms reached out to steady my momentum as I stumbled walking inside Cadillac’s.

I’d know that husky voice anywhere.

Declan .

I shouldn’t have been surprised to see him here. It was Saturday night, and if there weren’t any frat parties, this was the place to be. He wore jeans and a nicer shirt than usual, and I found myself remembering how he’d looked in his gi pants with his chest bared and scars showing.

Heat curled in my core. This was the first time he’d touched me since the day on the quad.

He raked his eyes over me in a leisurely fashion, a slow perusal that started at my heels and worked its way up to my dress. “You look nice,” he murmured.

I nodded. “What are you doing here?” I asked, looking at his face, devouring his chiseled jaw and full lips. I squirmed, remembering that mouth on my body.

I peeked over his shoulder into the dining establishment. Was he alone?

Ah. Dax and several of the fraternity little sisters sat at a large round table toward the back, near where the band was setting up. Lorna was there, of course.

I let out a long breath.

“I’m here with friends. What about you? You with Blake?” His voice had snarled that last bit, and I stiffened. Blake had actually cooled it with the pressure and I wasn’t sure why, but part of me wondered if he was afraid of Declan.

“You’re not saying anything.” He leaned on the wall to get out of a patron’s way, putting us closer together. His finger reached out and traced a line across my cheek. “I know this look. You’re worried.” He paused, his brow wrinkling. “Colby?”

And I heard it then, the slight slur in his voice, the smell of alcohol on his breath.

My heart stuttered. I reared back. “You’ve been drinking?”

“I’m twenty-one. Would you like one?” He held up a bottle of dark beer, and I felt stupid I hadn’t even noticed. I’d been too busy taking in the rest of him.

“I don’t like it,” I snapped.

“Good thing I’m not with you then.” He tipped it up to take a sip.

We stared at each other as the seconds ticked by, that familiar zing between us tugging at my heart. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t want him so much. Even knowing he’d been drinking— I didn’t care!

“I came to your apartment tonight, but you weren’t home. There was something I wanted to give you.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You ready for round two already? I didn’t think you did that, you being strictly a one-time shagging kind of girl.”

My chest rose. “Don’t be a jerk. Don’t you think I’m hurting? I’m going crazy thinking about you—”

Blake and Shelley stepped inside the door, laughing as they came over to us. Blake gave me a gentle hug and sent Declan a glare.

Declan sent me a conflicted look as if he had more to say, but then he straightened up from the wall, his muscles rippling and flexing. “Good to see you. I need to get back to my friends.”