British Bad Boys: Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  His quicksilver eyes hardened. “I get it, Remi. You hate me. I’m a no-good irresponsible bastard.”

  His words sliced me open, carving into my heart and digging deep, bringing back memories better left unspoken.

  I crushed those feelings down. Hard.

  “I—I don’t hate you. I could never in a million years hate you,” I whispered.

  His eyes flicked to mine. Searching. He exhaled and tore his away. “Yeah? Well, you got a funny way of showing it.”

  I bit down on my lips to keep the words in my heart from spilling out.

  You can’t hate the first boy you ever loved.

  4

  Life had just bitch-slapped me right across the face with the coincidence of a lifetime.

  Out of all the clubs in London, why did she have to waltz into mine?

  More importantly, why hadn’t I realized it was her before we’d gotten to the kiss? Perhaps a small part of me had; the romantic side no one ever saw.

  You can’t have her, I reminded myself.

  She’s off limits.

  I stomped up the stairs, club-goers pressing themselves against the railing to get out of our way. I was pissed off. No, scratch that. I was incensed, emotions clamoring all over the place, up and down and sideways, ramped up high enough to slam into anyone that got in my way.

  She relaxed grudgingly as I carried her up the stairs, her reticence almost tangible, a shadow of hurt in her sapphire eyes. I didn’t think that pain was from seeing me. I grunted. That thought was completely laughable.

  She lowered her eyes, hiding from me, but I could see that her emotions, like mine, were all over the place. I suspected it had nothing to do with our kiss and everything to do with her missing fiancé.

  Thinking of her getting shafted at the altar by Hartford made me ballistic.

  But why was I revved up like an Indy racecar? Me—the cool guy who never looked back at the girls he’d conquered.

  Because Remi Montague, that’s why; the one girl who’d blown my mind—and scared the shit out of me—when I was just a sophomore at nineteen.

  She let out a gasp.

  I paused. “Your ankle? You okay?”

  She nodded, that wounded gaze hitting me again, her full lips still swollen from my kisses.

  I tore my eyes off her face, but it didn’t stop the memories from crashing down.

  We began at the start of her freshman year when she showed up for a party at the Tau house on a Friday night and, like a magnet, my eyes had been drawn to her.

  She hadn’t been my type at all with her prim sweater and innocent blue eyes.

  Usually I went for the sorority girls who knew my game—females with plenty of daddy’s money and blasé attitudes about sex. But Remi; there was something about her that sucked me in—even though she was shy, had a brain like Einstein, and dressed like she was headed to a PTA meeting.

  Her lush lips told another story though, demanding to be kissed.

  I told myself to leave her alone. Several times.

  But like a magnet, I’d planted myself next to her. I couldn’t help myself.

  We talked and laughed over spiked punch. A while later, we clasped hands and laughed as they sent us upstairs in a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Yeah. It was silly, but we played along. We had no clue the heat it would lead to when we got in the closet and kissed . . . and kissed. She lit me up with lust and for an entire seventy-two hours together, we rolled around naked in my bed. It had been Labor Day weekend and most of the house was empty. We’d gotten up to scrounge around for food, take showers, and chase each other around the house, but we’d dived right back in to my bed.

  Fast. Slow.

  Me on top. Her on top.

  Sitting on a chair.

  Against the wall.

  She was everything I never knew I wanted in a girl—except I couldn’t have her.

  I didn’t do relationships.

  Then Eva-Maria, one of the fraternity little sisters I’d been with a few times, had shown up that Monday and ruined everything. She’d marched into my room and gone berserk, tossing books at Remi and claiming I was her boyfriend.

  Remi, a girl who clearly didn’t get involved with dramatics, had quickly dressed and left my room as I’d stood there naked trying to explain in a logical way that Eva-Maria wasn’t really a permanent thing, just someone I slept with when I was horny.

  I came back to the present when Remi tipped up the bottle of tequila in my arms to take a sip. She’d slapped me tonight. Not that I hadn’t deserved it. Sure, I’d been a cocky smartass when she finally figured out who I was, but that was all a front.

  I hadn’t known how to react to her.

  She had this uncanny ability of making me feel like I was a blithering arse.

  I shook my head. Focus on the here and now. Get her to a booth, get her settled with an ice pack, call a cab, and get her home.

  And Hartford. Sonofabitch. Thinking of him fanned the flames higher.

  He’d dumped her?

  In what universe did that even make sense? He’d started seeing Remi a few months after she and I had our fling, and from the looks of them around campus, they’d been crazy about each other. Not that I’d noticed.

  “You putting me down anytime soon?” Her voice had a slight slur. “This circus sideshow you’re doing is giving me motion sickness.”

  “Trust me, I can’t get you there fast enough,” I retorted.

  Every single booth was taken, but that didn’t stop me from marching up to an occupied one in a back corner. With clenched teeth, I politely asked the three people to move. I got a few raised eyebrows and one muttering arsehole, but with Spider behind me all puffed up and ready to tango, they left.

  I eased her down just as a waitress came scurrying over and asked what we needed.

  “A glass of water and an ice pack,” I said curtly. “She fell down near the bar. Hurry, please.”

  The waitress’s eyes flared. “Should I get the manager for you?”

  Remi waved her off with a weak smile. “Once I get some ice, it’ll go down. Trust me, I’ve had worse.”

  I grabbed an extra chair from a table a few feet away and pulled it up to Remi. “Here. Elevate your foot.”

  She did, her eyes looking everywhere except me.

  “Where’s Lulu now?” I asked. She was the life of any party and a complete opposite to Remi; they were thick as thieves.

  “Dancing, last I saw.”

  “She shouldn’t leave you alone in a nightclub.”

  She ignored me and cuddled the bottle of tequila. “This stuff tastes better the more you drink. Want some?”

  “You’re sloshed, Remi,” I muttered.

  “Am not.”

  I studied her, taking in the smeared lipstick from where we’d kissed. Her eyes were glassy too, a hard glint in them, a look I’d become accustomed to over the years whenever we’d bump into each other.

  I sighed and turned to Spider, describing Lulu’s signature pink hair and height. He looked dubious about searching the dance floor but dashed off to find her.

  After a few moments of silence, she slipped her mask off, set it on the table, and nibbled on her thumbnail, something I’d seen her do a dozen times at frat parties when she didn’t know I was watching her.

  Was she thinking about me?

  About that fucking epic kiss?

  No, you arsehole.

  She’s broken up over another dude. Get your head out of the sand. Plus, she’s too smart for you. Even drunk, she’s probably thinking about some bird in Africa and how it . . .

  “Stop all your pacing,” she said, eyeing me. “Will you please sit?”

  I let out a breath. Part of me didn’t want to leave her, even though at this point I could since Lulu would be up here soon. I rubbed my jaw, and pulled up another chair to the booth she was in. I might as well be useful. “Let’s look at your ankle.”

  She moved her foot off the chair and settled it on my knee. A mile long
and soft, her legs were hot. Remi wasn’t beautiful if you looked at each individual feature: her nose was a hair too long, her cheekbones high and a bit broad, the space between her two front teeth obvious, but when you combined it together, she was one of the sexiest girls I’d ever met. Only she didn’t know it.

  Yeah, yeah, you love how she looks. It makes you hard. Move on.

  But it was funny how I’d always spot her, even yards away on campus. Not that it had ever done me any good. As soon as she saw me, she’d be in the wind.

  I traced my fingers over the swollen lump on the right side of her ankle. It was small, and from being around Declan and the gym and just from a general knowledge of playing sports, I knew she’d be okay. “I think it’s a sprain, but not serious. Still hurting?”

  Her shoulders had tensed as I touched her. “Not as much.”

  “If the swelling doesn’t go down by tomorrow, you’ll need to see a doctor. I can recommend one for you if you want. I’ve been here all summer and have a good feel for the place.”

  “It will be fine. I fall all the time. Can I have my leg back now?”

  “Fine with me.” I eased back from her ankle and scooted my chair away from her.

  The seconds ticked by as she gazed at the wall and played with her hair, which flowed down her back like a freaking waterfall. A memory stabbed at me—one where I’d wrapped my hand in her hair, tugged her face back, and hammered into her.

  I shifted around on my seat.

  “Why did you kiss me the second time after you knew it was me?” She doodled on the table with her index finger. Her head came up when I didn’t answer right away, her eyes meeting mine. “Dax?”

  I shrugged. “Because I still remember that weekend we were together . . . because—dammit—I don’t know, okay?” I stood back up, crossing my arms. “The ice is taking too long. I’m going to see where she went—”

  “Dax. Wait.”

  I turned back around, my eyes skating over her.

  She took a deep breath, confusion on her face. “Look, I came here tonight looking for my rebound guy. I wanted to hurt Hartford by sexing it up with a hot British dude. That’s why I kissed you.”

  “I’m not judging you, Remi.”

  “Then this bartender kinda hit on me, but I got T. rex arms and fell and you caught me, and I thought fate had put us together, and then that kiss . . .” She stopped and squinted. “Am I making sense? I totally am, right?”

  Not even close, but I nodded.

  She sighed. “Anyway, what I’m getting at is I shouldn’t have slapped you. It’s not like me and was a knee-jerk reaction. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry for being an egotistical waste of oxygen.” I sent her a wry grin.

  Her hands twisted the bracelet on her wrist, eyes downcast. “Tell me something. You mentioned something earlier about me storming out that day . . . if I hadn’t walked out on you, would we have been a real thing?”

  I opened my mouth, and for half a second I didn’t know what I was going to say. My eyes met hers. “Three weeks is my longest with any girl. You were amazing, Remi—but it’s doubtful we would have lasted much beyond that. We were so hot for each other, I never got around to clarifying—”

  She held her hand up. “Stop explaining. I figured it out pretty quick when you never called or texted—and when I saw you the next week with another girl.”

  The waitress showed up with water, a Ziploc bag of ice, and a towel, stopping any further discussion about the topic. After she left, I sat back down in the chair and put the towel under the ice and then on her ankle. “Sorry, this is probably going to be cold,” I said gently.

  “I can deal. I always do,” she murmured, eyes on her foot as she took a sip of water.

  “Remi?”

  She looked up at me. “Yeah?”

  I exhaled. “Listen. I want to make it up to you. For being an arsehole back then—and tonight.”

  “An ass would have left me down there fumbling around like a drunk, one-legged pirate. You didn’t.”

  My lips kicked up. “Funny.”

  Her fingers plucked at the hem of her dress. “What’s funny is I can’t recall what I had for dinner last night, but I remember every single detail of that weekend with you. How the window was open and the wind blew the curtains. I let you . . .”

  “Better watch what you say. You’re not yourself,” I said softly.

  She laughed, the first genuine one I’d heard. “You’re right. I sound like a sappy girl with a crush on the school bad boy—oh, wait, that did happen.”

  “Shall we call a truce then? Start over as friends?”

  “Friends?” Her dark brows drew in.

  “Yeah. You know, hang in the quad, meet at the library, go to Panera.”

  “Panera? Together? Like eat at the same table?”

  I grinned. “Yeah. Or we can sit on opposite sides of the restaurant and yell back and forth.”

  A giggle erupted from her and soon turned into a full-blown belly laugh.

  “What’s so hilarious?” I asked, unable to keep the defensiveness out of my tone.

  She gathered herself, wiping her eyes. “Oh, Dax Blay, you’re a real comedian. I cried over you for an entire semester, I ate enough cookie dough that the cashier at the grocery store would have it waiting for me. I watched an entire season of Orange is the New Black in one day just to get you out of my head. I daydreamed you’d come to my door and beg me to take you back. Instead, I watched girls panting over you like hyenas on campus while you reveled in the attention. So, no, absolutely never, ever can we be friends. I don’t want to be in the same room with you. No offense.” She smiled wryly and with her index finger pointed to herself and then me. “This here—you being nice and helping me and me being drunk and chatting like we’re comrades—it’s a one-time thing.”

  Confusion set in.

  She’d been depressed because of me? She’d cried an entire semester?

  What. The. Hell.

  Something wasn’t adding up.

  I’d just assumed her coolness toward me was because of Eva-Maria and she had genuinely written me off as a complete jerk. Then tonight I’d learned of Eva-Maria’s bullying. But this?

  My hands clenched. “Are you saying you were in love with me?”

  She froze, her eyes evading mine. Seconds ticked by.

  A weird panic hit and I held my breath.

  Had she loved me?

  No girl had ever said so.

  Fuck. I hadn’t wanted them to.

  “Remi? Help a guy out. I can’t read your mind.”

  She raised hesitant eyes to meet mine, a sad expression flitting across her face. “No. I don’t believe in love at first sight, or falling in love in seventy-two hours—whatever. Do you?”

  “No.” I lifted my hands. “But I don’t understand why you were so upset . . .”

  Lulu marched up to the table, wearing a black skirt-thing and a shirt with rips everywhere, predictably dressed like a stylish homeless person. She set her martini glass on the table, whipped her mask off, and took in Remi’s ankle, her eyes widening as she got a gander at me. A long whistle came from her mouth. “Shoot, Remi, you sure know how to party. I leave you alone for a minute and you drag up Dax Blay and company. Is this an alternate universe? Are the Omegas hanging out with the Taus?”

  Spider followed behind her, his voice amused. “Found your friend twerking on the dance floor with a bunch of guys. Nice girl.”

  I stood up to give Lulu my seat. “Hiya, Lulu. Having fun?” My words were clipped. Pissed off.

  She smirked and spoke in her usual slow Southern drawl. “Why, hello, playa, and yeah I was, until this blue-haired dude showed up and yanked me off the floor. He said Remi was hurt.”

  “You should have been with Remi,” I told her tightly. “I’m assuming you came with her to keep her company.”

  Lulu scrunched her face up, put her hands on her hips, and harrumphed. “This girl? She’s tough as nails. You don’t kn
ow half the shit she can handle, and don’t let the klutziness fool you. She survived a squirrel attack on the quad last year and only came out with a tetanus shot,” she said. “And why do you care? Why are you being in charge with Remi? She doesn’t even like you.”

  I know.

  “Guys, stop,” Remi said as she rose up from the table. She weaved a bit, then steadied as I reached over to help her stand. “I got this.” She held me off as she propped herself against the back of the booth and gingerly tested her ankle. Placing it down on the floor, she took a couple of practice steps. “See, I’m better already. All I needed was the ice pack.”

  I exhaled. She did seem okay, her foot firmly on the floor as she walked.

  Spider arched his brow and directed his eyes at me. “Seems like our cue to go, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. Scat,” Lulu said, shooing us. “I’ve got two guys I’ve been dancing with on their way up here to meet Remi, and one of them is going to be her date tonight.” She turned to Remi. “Sound good?”

  Remi shrugged.

  Lulu nodded, practically rubbing her hands together. “They are so sweet, and one of them is in a band and the other goes to uni—isn’t that a cute word? Uni?” She giggled.

  Remi flicked her eyes at me and shrugged. “Sure, bring them on. The more the merrier.”

  A vein in my temple pulsed. I mean, I could actually feel it. Visions of her drunk and in a bed with a random stranger pissed me off. Didn’t she know that was dangerous and stupid . . . ?

  You don’t own her, Dax. She belongs to Hartford—or at least her heart does.

  Spider came over to stand next to me, out of earshot of the girls. He grabbed my elbow and pulled me toward the staircase.

  “Bye, y’all.” Lulu waved at us, a sarcastic tone in her voice.

  Obviously she held a grudge as long as Remi did.

  Spider turned to me as I slowed my pace, still looking back at Remi. “Dude, I know you want to stay and do your caveman protector act, but you’ve done all you can here. Your charms aren’t working. She’s a no-go. She bloody hates you,” he said.

  “I wasn’t acting. This has nothing to do with the bet.”