Filthy English

Dax grinned, the first genuine one I’d seen. “Not at all. It’d be nice to have another guy around. Do you like to play Xbox?”

“I will kick your ass at Halo.”

“Language,” I said but no one seemed to notice.

“You can try,” Dax snarked. “And, by the way, I love pickles too. There’s a whole jar of dills in there right now that my step-mum, Clara, brought me. She canned them herself.”

Malcolm took that in. He adjusted his wire spectacles and focused on me. “He’s cool. You should totally live here.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Dax gazed at me, his tongue dipping out to dab at his lower lip. He bit it, and I tore my eyes off him. Jesus. What was he doing?

As if directed by a part of my brain I had no control over, my right hand toyed with the small strand of pearls I’d put on with my sundress.

Dax inhaled sharply, dropping the papers he’d been holding on the floor between us. Bending down from his chair, he reached to snatch them, his eyes snaking over my legs. I crossed them and he flinched, a flush rising in his cheeks as he sat up and put the paper on the table.

I dropped the pearls and twisted my wrist. What was wrong with me? Why was I baiting him?

I glanced back at him to see that his face had whitened. I followed his eyes, realizing he’d seen the engagement ring on my finger.

I stared at the rock that symbolized everything I wanted. Hartford had asked me to wear it again, and I’d finally agreed the day we landed back in Raleigh. Part of me had wanted to make my mom happy and keep Malcolm from worrying about me. The rest of me was ambivalent as hell.

Hartford’s impatient voice brought me back. “We’re losing daylight here on the search for an apartment, Remington.”

Instead of answering, I focused on Dax. His eyes caught mine, and bit-by-bit, everyone else in the room disappeared.

“I’m going to live here,” I said, turning my gaze back to Hartford.

His face reddened. “You can’t mean that—”

“I do. The rent is right, there’s a place for Malcolm, and it’s minutes from campus. It’s everything I want.”

“Except it’s a guy you’re considering living with,” he said, his voice sharp.

“I have nowhere else, Hartford.”

And you’re the reason I’m in this predicament, my eyes said.

Had he so easily forgotten?

“I’m choosing where I live. No one else,” I added firmly.

He flicked his eyes to Dax and then considered me, a look of distaste on his face as if he smelled something rotten.

Dax cleared his throat. “Uh, I can give you a few moments alone . . .”

“No, that’s not necessary. I want the room. Right, Hartford?” My lips tightened. If he didn’t agree with this. . . .

A few tense moments ticked by until finally he exhaled, leaned over, and put his hand over mine. “I’m sorry to be a pain, babe. I just want what’s best for you, and this isn’t it. With that said, I’ll support whatever decision you make.” He shot a dark look at Dax. “Anyway, I’m just down the road, and you can always stay over with me anytime.”

“Sure,” I said with obvious relief, glad he was getting on board.

Dax pushed the papers over for me to sign.

I stared down at them.

Him. Me. In a house alone.

What could possibly go wrong?

AFTER REMI AND company walked out the door with a promise they’d be back with some bedroom furniture and the rest of her things at seven, I strode back into the den and collapsed down on the recliner.

Fuck, I was certifiably insane.

In what universe could I live with Remi in the same house?

How was I going to keep my hands off her?

You will because she’s wearing his ring and he’s what she wants. He’s on her list, remember?

While Elizabeth popped outside to talk on the phone with her friend Shelley, Declan grabbed two beers from the kitchen and handed me one. “So, a new roomie? That means income. Not bad, little bro.”

I gulped a swig down, my fingers toying with the label on the bottle. “Apparently.”

“She’s got a big-arse diamond on her finger.” Declan didn’t miss much. “Hartford’s fiancée?”

I nodded.

“You think it’s wise to live with her?” His eyes studied me.

“I can keep my dick in my pants.”

He tipped his beer up. Wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Uh-huh.”

I scoffed. “What? Her? You know she’s the Queen of Plans and Getting Shit Done? Trust me, I’m not up to her standards.” I spread my hands apart. “Plus, she’s with an Omega.”

“Yep.”

“She’s a klutz too. Falls over everything. She slipped in this club and fell right in my lap. You should have seen it.”

“Really.”

I sucked down a swig. “She’s into birds—big time. Like she’s planning on getting a doctorate—weird, right?”

“Maybe.”

“And that hair. It was long and she went and chopped it all off. I mean, the red is cool, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not long enough to wrap around my hand . . .” I stopped.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Declan said dryly.

“We got matching tattoos at the Friar’s Church.”

“Okaaay.” He’d been standing but sat down across from me on the couch, and even though I wasn’t looking him in the face, I felt the weight of his stare.