Filthy English

“Hey, you disappeared for a while,” he said.

“Yeah. Went to the bathroom and decided on a drink.” I tipped back the rest of the shot.

“That doesn’t seem like you.” Earlier I’d told him I wasn’t drinking since classes started tomorrow and I wanted to be at the top of my game. He swept my hair back so he could see my face more clearly. He sighed, the heat from his body warm and safe and familiar as his fingers touched my cheek and trailed down my jawline to my lips. “There are times when I feel like I don’t know you at all, Remington.”

There was an odd sadness in his eyes.

I started. “What do you mean?”

He slid his eyes from me to the hallway where the restrooms were.

Had he seen us?

“Do—do you mean since we took our break? Or since forever?”

He clutched the beer he held, took a long drink, and set it down carefully as if he was thinking through each motion. “Both. I don’t know. I mean, you come back from London and you’ve got this wild hair and you seem—different. You’re not soft anymore—you seem like you might break.”

He paused. “You don’t look at me the same way.”

I faced him, my knees between his, not wanting any of the other people standing around to hear us. “There’s a hole in us—somewhere—and you saw it, and now you want me to suddenly patch it up.”

His hand cupped my nape. “But do you want me back?”

I wanted the guy who’d make me happy.

“So much has changed.”

“I haven’t.” He pulled me in with his hand, and for a long moment, he stared at me, searching my face. “I still love you, Remi, no matter what you’ve done.”

What did that mean?

He kissed me, his lips cold, his tongue bitter from the beer.

“Finish your drink. Let’s get out of here,” he said as we pulled apart. “There’s hardly anyone here I like anyway.” He tossed money on the bar to pay for my drink.

I blinked at the suddenness, my eyes scouring the room for Dax. “Isn’t it rude to leave so soon?”

“I want to be alone with you.”

Not now. Not after Dax. I couldn’t.

“Hartford . . .” My voice was hesitant. I plucked at my bracelet, and his eyes widened.

“Remi! Where did you find it?”

I looked down. My chest ached. God, that moment in the bathroom. “Dax.”

His eyebrows slashed down. “How did he find it?”

“I—he just gave it to me tonight . . . I don’t know.”

“Yeah?” His eyes went to my lips.

I licked them, knowing they were swollen. “He didn’t say how.”

“He just handed it over and walked away?”

I shrugged.

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“Earlier. In the hallway.”

I was lying to him.

This wasn’t right. I couldn’t do this. I was an awful person.

He took my hand and helped me down off the stool, an urgency to his movements as we moved around the bar.

“Wait,” I said. We’d gotten to the front door ready to head out. “Shouldn’t we tell Dax goodbye? It’s—it’s his party.”

Hartford’s lips thinned, but he nodded, his eyes already scanning the room until they lasered in on the pool tables. Holding hands, we made our way to the back of the bar. But with each step closer to Dax, Hartford grew tenser, as if something inside him was building. Bubbling.

Dax watched us approach with hooded eyes.

Hartford came to a halt in front of him. “Came to say our goodbyes although we’ll probably see you soon.”

Dax arched a brow, his voice cold. “That so?”

“Your house? We’re headed there now.” He wrapped an arm around me. “You might want to give us a head start though. We’ve got some catching up to do now that Malcolm’s gone. Remi’s hot for it tonight . . . can’t keep her hands off me.” He leered at Dax. “If you catch my meaning?”

“I see.” Dax paled, his hand white around his pool cue. Gray eyes found mine.

I gripped Hartford’s arm. Appalled at his words. “Let’s go. Please.”

He ignored me, shaking me off. “And thank you for getting Remi her bracelet.”

Dax tensed, his eyes flicking to my wrist.

“A bit odd to go to all that trouble for someone you just happened to run into in London. I mean, you must have been in contact with the police? And pawn shops?”

Dax’s face was a mask, his body held in tight control. “I saw how much she missed it. She was hurting in London.” He paused, a flush rising on his cheekbones. “Because of you, arsehole.”

Hartford’s face twisted. “I think you’ve got a hard-on for my girl. Stay away from her.”

“She isn’t mine. She’s with you,” Dax replied softly.

Hartford stepped into Dax’s personal space, his voice like sandpaper. “I knew her moving in with you was a terrible idea, and you can damn well bet she’ll be moving out of your house. Tonight.”

I felt dizzy. Hartford was losing it.

Dax’s control snapped, a dark look on his face as he glared down at Hartford. “You’re on dangerous ground, Omega. Tread softly or I will hurt you. You’re lucky I haven’t already.”

“Hartford,” I called, my voice thin and shaky. “I’m leaving. With or without you.” I pivoted and took long strides to the door. If he didn’t come, I’d walk or call a cab or go back in and find Lulu.