Filthy English

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.