Filthy English

“What are you talking about?”

She giggled and settled in on the bed, crossing her legs. “Spider’s coming and we’re having a party for Dax’s new house. Declan is supposed to get Dax to Cadillac’s, and I’m supposed to bring you.”

“Me? I don’t understand. And why you are suddenly texting a rock star? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

An impish grin spread across her face. “He only texted a few times.”

“How many?”

She shrugged.

“Spill.”

She just grinned.

I pursed my lips. “I think you have some ’splaining to do.”

“Whatever. It’s nothing. We’re just friends. He’s still in love with some Mila girl.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t say it like that.” Her face flushed a deep red.

“Fine, fine. But now I’m wondering what you two were up to while Dax and I were getting our tattoos . . . oh shit . . . my tattoo. Whatever I wear, it’s got to cover it.” I grimaced.

She ran to her closet and pulled out a short, lime-green dress with a mandarin collar.

“It’s so bright.” I held up my hands to shield my eyes.

“Nah. It’s classy with a bit of slut, and the top is high enough to cover your Union Jack.” She held it up to my frame and I peered down at it. It was short.

“You know I weigh about fifteen pounds more than you, right?”

She pushed it in my hands. “Here. Take it home and try it—and put something besides flats with it.”

“WHAT THE BLOODY hell is eating at you, bro? You’re not even looking at my hands,” Declan said. For the third time, I’d been distracted and had failed to shield a side-kick to the chest he’d given, ending with me flat on my arse on the sparring mat.

I shook it off and stood. Put my fists up. “Nothing. Come on, try again, knobhead. Let’s see how far you get.” I’d been here for an hour, helping him getting some training in. I wasn’t good enough for him—not by a long shot—but his regular partner was on vacation and Declan was, well, driven. Missing a day of sparring was not an option so he took the next best thing. Me.

He slipped his gloves off. “Nope, we’re done. Come on, let’s head to the kitchen and get some lunch.”

“Cool,” is what I said, but internally I wasn’t sure I could stomach anything. My gut swirled from last night and everything Remi had confessed.

We slipped through the back entrance of the packed gym, down a narrow hall, and entered their apartment.

Elizabeth met us in the kitchen and handed us both a cold glass of water. “How’s the roommate situation coming?” she asked as we pulled stuff out of the fridge to make sandwiches.

“Peachy.”

She paused, sending me an odd look. “Oh.”

“What does that mean?” I said.

“It’s just, she’s a pretty girl, and you’re a guy, and maybe I’m wrong, but I thought there was a tiny bit of tension between you.” She smiled and handed me a bag of chips for my sandwich. “Or maybe that was just the frat thing going on between you and her fiancé.”

“He slept with her in London,” Declan murmured. “Fake-married her too.”

Her mouth gaped as she popped Declan on the head. “And you’re just now telling me! What’s wrong with you?”

“Bollocks, I’m sorry it slipped my mind. We came home and we got busy and then the shower and I guess I forgot . . .” He took a swig of water. “A man can’t think straight around you, love.”

“Mmmm. I guess so.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek while his arm snaked around her waist hungrily and pulled her in closer.

I looked down at my sandwich. I mean, I was happy for them—always had been—but today . . .

After lunch, they convinced me to head to Cadillac’s that night and I agreed, realizing I needed a dose of fun after my tough week. I headed to the house around five to shower and get dressed. Remi’s car was gone, and I figured she’d taken Malcolm back home for the week. I parked on the street instead of the driveway, thinking it was safer for her if she had the parking closer to the house.

By six, I’d showered, shaved, and changed into jeans and a black Vital Rejects shirt Spider had given me in London. I spent a while around the house, mostly waiting to see if she came in, but she never did. I considered calling her and inviting her out, but in the end, I didn’t.

I just didn’t know where we stood.

At seven I headed to Cadillac’s. It was a college hangout, and I figured it would be packed with all the students here over the weekend.

I walked through the door at Cadillac’s—only the regulars weren’t there.

“Surprise!” came the shouts from a room full of people.

I nearly fell arse over tit onto the marble floor. Grins and shouts met me as people crowded around me to slap me on the back and congratulate me on the house.

Everyone was here. Axel and some of the brothers, a collection of little sisters, Declan and Elizabeth, my father and step-mum, several other girls I knew from Whitman, and Spider—my eyes tracked back to him as he made his way over to me, wearing a baseball hat, black skinny jeans, and his gray leather jacket.

Declan wrapped a big arm around my shoulder. “Dude. Spider arranged this. He wanted to do a little thank-you for taking care of him this summer. By the way, everyone brought a housewarming gift. It’s a Dax festival in here.” He grinned.