Dirty English

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by Ilsa Madden-Mills


  He had presence, as Mom would say.

  My mom had dated a string of men with presence—drug problems, felonies, heavy fists.

  I groaned. I was spending way too much time analyzing this guy.

  But my mouth had other ideas. “So what exactly is Declan’s type,” I asked Blake, turning my eyes to him.

  “Blond hair, long legs, smart. Mostly sorority girls with attitudes and rich daddies. In fact, his ex, Nadia, is here somewhere.” He gazed around at the crowd as if to find her.

  I snorted. “Rich girls? I’m here on an academic scholarship. I think I’m safe.”

  “Safe from what?” Declan asked me as he approached us. I startled. He’d moved a lot faster than I’d thought. He handed me a chilled bottle of water, his warm hands again connecting with mine, his fingers lingering.

  Sparks went off on my skin.

  Did he carry some kind of electrical current machine around in his pocket?

  He handed a Solo cup of beer to Shelley.

  I tried to focus my eyes away from him, but the darn things kept returning to him, searching his face and taking in the details. He had a three-inch white scar above his right eyebrow and I found myself wanting to touch it, to trace it with my fingers and ask him what had happened. He was preoccupied with me too, giving me long glances but then looking away and rolling his neck as if what he saw in me made his shoulders tight.

  Ha. I bet he had a line of girls waiting to work those kinks out.

  But still that didn’t stop me from following him to the back of the yard when he suggested it, saying we could talk without everyone in our face.

  Blake went off to dance with one of the fraternity little sisters. Shelley checked with me to make sure I was okay and when I told her I was fine, she and Dax headed out to dance.

  We stood with our backs against the fence and watched the party, laughing every now and then at something crazy someone would do in the pool or on the dance floor.

  “Do you think we’re the only sober people here?” I asked. I’d noticed he’d been drinking water too.

  He shrugged. “My father drinks a lot, and I don’t want to be anything like him.”

  I heard the tension in his voice, and because I wanted to ease him, I opened up. “Hmm, no family is perfect. My dad’s in prison—or at least the man my mom tells me is my dad. I’ve never met him, but he’s there for murder.”

  His mouth parted, a look of surprise on his face. That I was the spawn of a killer? “Bugger, that must have been tough.”

  “He beat a guy to death in an alley outside a bar while he was on probation for selling drugs. He got life.” My gut tightened as I took in his black eye. “My mom says he was a hothead. Maybe it’s a good thing I never knew him. People who use their fists scare me.”

  His body tensed at that, but it didn’t stop me from babbling on and on. Maybe it was because he was a stranger, and I figured I’d never see him again. “My mom, on the other hand, wanted to be a Vegas showgirl but then she got pregnant with me. I guess you could say I ruined her life.” I shrugged, pushing those memories away. “So, how did you end up here? Are you an athlete?” My eyes lingered on his broad chest. Again.

  He grinned. “No.”

  Oh.

  “I’m originally from London. My mum was English and my dad’s American—he was the ambassador to England years ago.” He seemed to gather himself, adjusting his stance, his eyes suddenly everywhere except on me. “They divorced when I was a toddler, and when I was ten, Mum died from cancer. Dax and I moved here to Raleigh to live with my dad. I guess you can say we’ve been Americanized in the past few years. At least I got a dual citizenship out of the union.” Hardness grew in his eyes. “He ripped everything away from us and then forgot we existed when he got remarried. I don’t see him often. He doesn’t care.”

  I held my water bottle up. “A toast to shitty parents.”

  A large blue dragonfly landed on my arm, its stick-like body vibrating. I’m not the kind of girl who screams bloody murder when an insect shows up. The artist in me preferred to study everything in great detail.

  “Oh. Look how pretty it is,” I said, but he’d already seen it and had leaned in closer, the smell of him male and potent.

  “It tickles,” I giggled after a while, and he shooed the creature away, his gentleness surprising me.

  He watched it fly away and then sent me a considering glance. “It’s funny—every time I see a dragonfly, I think it’s my mum’s spirit. She loved them. Crazy-like. She even had this charm bracelet someone had given her, and you’d think she’d have different things on it, but all she bought were dragonfly charms. She had magnets, knickknacks, even paintings.” He rubbed his jawline. “On the day of her funeral, we were at the burial and one landed on Dax and then flew over to me. It hovered around us the entire time and wouldn’t leave. It was strange yet comforting—” He swallowed and then continued. “The day my father showed up at our house to move us here, one followed our car for miles. Weird, right? I—I just always think it’s her looking out for me.”

  “That’s beautiful. Is that why you have the tattoo on your neck?”

  “Yeah. To always have her with me.”

  Him, him, him, my body said. Pick him tonight.

  I fidgeted, switching my water from one hand to the other.

  “Hey, you okay? Did my story bother you?” His eyes watched me, landing on my lips.

  I licked them. “Uh, no, it’s just we seem to have this thing, like a connection, and I was wondering if maybe, you know, if you weren’t busy later, and you know, if you aren’t with anyone else, and if you think it’s cool, and if you’re attracted to me and like sex, then perhaps you could come back to my place?”

  I closed my eyes in horror. Kill me now. Shit, shit, shit. That came out so wrong.

  I popped my eyes open to see Blake jogging over to us. Thank God. Someone to rescue me from my stupidity.

  I chanced a look at Declan for a reaction to my offer, but his face was a cool mask as he watched Blake approach us.

  Had he even heard me? What was up with him?

  Blake stopped in front of me, not looking at Declan. “Come on, you love this song. Let’s go dance,” he insisted, grabbing my hand and tugging.

  I cleared my throat and got my nerve back up. “Why don’t we all go out and dance? Declan?”

  Declan sent me a conflicted look, his eyes going to my hand enclosed in Blake’s and then back to my face. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “No, thanks,” he said coolly.

  What was that?

  “Go on. I’ll be out there in a minute,” I told Blake, who immediately sent me a sulky look but stalked back to the dance floor.

  I turned to Declan. “Why don’t you want to dance? No rhythm?” I grinned to lighten the suddenly dark mood he seemed to be in.

  “Are you Blake’s girl?” His words were clipped.

  “No. I don’t date anyone. I have fun, that’s it. And in case you missed it, I just propositioned you. Horribly.”

  His face softened as he touched my hair briefly and then dropped his hand. “You shocked the hell out of me, you know. It was surprisingly … earnest and cute.”

  Cute? The worse adjective ever for a girl. A death knell sounded.

  “I shouldn’t have done that. I got caught up in the night and you …” Obviously, he wasn’t interested.

  “Don’t think I’m not into you,” he said rather huskily.

  “But?”

  “It’s not a good idea.”

  “Whatever. I should be running like hell from a guy like you anyway.”

  His eyes zeroed back in on mine. “Why?”

  “Long story.”

  He shifted closer to me, his hand brushing mine. “Maybe you can tell me that story someday.”

  And then out of the blue, tears pricked at my eyes at his tenderness, and I hurriedly blinked them away before he noticed.

  He exhaled, seeming to be uncertain about how to proceed. “Look, I�
��ve seen you around on campus. You keep to yourself and underneath you seem, well, fragile—and honestly, I like my girls and sex hard. I’d be all over you, and somehow I’m sensing you aren’t down with that.” His intense eyes searched mine. “Putting everything out there, I just broke up with someone a few months back, and I wouldn’t want to use you.”

  I got hung up on I like it hard, and repeating it in my head made sweat pop out.

  “Maybe I want to use you, and I’m not fragile. No one hurts me anymore,” I said, but before he could reply to that, Shelley yelled from the dance floor.

  “Elizabeth, get your ass out here and dance with me.” Her arms waved at me to come on, her lithe body gyrating around several partners.

  When I turned back to Declan, a pretty girl with blond hair cut in a sharp bob had come up and crooked her arm through his. Thin with big boobs, she wore stilettos and a soft periwinkle dress that probably cost more than my rent.

  She took a look at me, dismissed me with a sniff, and turned to Declan.

  “Hey, babe, I need to talk to you.” She ran her fingers down his arm.

  His entire body stiffened, a cold look on his face as he peered down at her. “What do you want?”

  “You,” she whined. “Just give me a chance to explain …”

  Oh. The ex?

  He flicked his eyes to me and nodded. “It was great to meet you, Elizabeth. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow? Since when?

  He sent me one final look, turned, and walked away with the other girl.

  Just like that, my night with Declan was over.

  Was I disappointed? Yes.

  Was I going to let it ruin my first college party? No.

  ELIZABETH BENNETT WAS the most awkward person to ever come to a frat party.

  Not only had she came through the door like she was going to an execution, but she’d asked me to shag her in the most unsophisticated manner I’d ever seen in my days at Whitman. I could live for the next hundred years and my ears would never hear a come-on that bad.

  Weird or not, no one could deny she was hot as hell. The entire time we’d talked, I hadn’t been able to stop staring at her blue eyes or the way her dress plunged down to the deep V between her breasts—which was frustrating.

  I wasn’t here to meet some girl and start something. I didn’t need the distraction.

  And the Blake dude?

  What in the bloody hell?

  He was crazy in love with her, and she had no clue. Or did she?

  I followed Nadia as she led me back into the house. I should have shoved her off me as soon as she’d sidled up next to me with that forlorn expression on her face, but truthfully, I’d needed to distance myself from Elizabeth and Nadia had been a good excuse. Surprisingly, seeing her hadn’t crushed me like I thought it might. Now that we’d been apart for a while I’d had time to think and I could see how incredibly wrong she’d been for me. Most of our relationship had been based on sex. A shallow girl who only looked out for herself, she’d been the wrong choice all along, but I’d been swayed by her body and the way she’d fawned over me.

  We headed into the library toward the back of the house. A secluded room, it was where the frat held most of their meetings and formal gatherings. I figured there’d be less of a chance of anyone walking in on us if things got heated. Not that I’d lose my temper with her. That wasn’t my style. I’d never gone off on a female—thanks to the good influence of my mum.

  I took my frustrations out on the punching bag at the gym, not on girls.

  I knew Nadia’s game. She’d come to the party and seen me with Elizabeth. She wanted what she couldn’t have. Typical.

  We made our way into the center of the room and before I could even ask her what she wanted that was so important, she had her tongue down my throat.

  It felt good for half a second, and then I reached behind me to untangle her hands and remove her lips from mine.

  “Don’t do that,” I snapped.

  “Declan, I know you hate me,” she whispered, staring up at me, “but I’ve missed you so much. Please don’t push me away. It’s been an absolutely horrible summer without you.”

  “Mine was pretty good,” I bit out. “I got rid of a cheating girlfriend and worked my arse off getting the gym ready. Ditching you was the best thing I did.”

  She closed her eyes, a flash of pain on her face, and when she opened them, tears swam, making them shimmer. “I know we ended terribly, and it’s all my fault, and you shouldn’t even give me the time of day, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen you—”

  “Where’s Donatello?” I said curtly and crossed my arms. “Go find him.”

  She bit her lip and let out a choke. “Oh, God, Declan, my mom has cancer. She was diagnosed last month, and I’ve been a basket case ever since, and all I could think of was talking to you, and I can’t because you won’t return my calls.” She swallowed, her hands twisting in the fabric of her dress. “With what you went through with your mom, you’re the only one who gets how scared I am. I—I just needed to see you tonight and tell you.”

  Her mum?

  I scrubbed my jaw, remembering Mrs. Brown as a sweet lady who resembled Nadia, only softer and always asking if I needed anything when we’d been at her parents’ house a few times for dinner. I exhaled and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry for your mum. Cancer sucks more than anything I know.”

  She sniffed and snuggled into my chest, so I ended up wrapping my arms around her.

  “God, you smell so good,” she murmured against my chest.

  I stared down at her. “Nadia—”

  She cupped my face. “Don’t talk. Just kiss me, Declan.”

  THE SONG ENDED and I took off to go back inside. I told myself it was just to find a restroom, but I also really wanted to see where Declan went. Stalker? Maybe.

  I wandered around until I passed one of the smaller rooms and out of my peripheral gaze caught a couple embracing.

  I stopped and backed up to get a better view.

  I really shouldn’t spy, but it was Declan and Nadia who stood in front of a chair, giving me a view of their torsos as they held each other. She pulled his head down and kissed him hungrily as her hands ran through his hair. He let it go on for a while but then disentangled her hands as he said something I couldn’t hear.

  Holding my breath, I leaned forward to try and catch their conversation.

  I don’t know why I cared so much. He’d turned me down and let me know I wasn’t his type, which was damn ironic considering I’d rejected his brother—not that it had fazed Dax in the least.

  Yells and whoops reached my ears as a sudden influx of partiers came into the house. Declan and Nadia turned toward the door, and afraid of getting caught snooping, I ducked down to my knees.

  Had they seen me? I closed my eyes.

  How had I gotten myself in this mess?

  Because you had to pee, I responded to myself. And because you came to this stupid party.

  Praying the chair hid me, I moved in a slow duck crawl toward the hallway and hopefully a toilet.

  Black Converse shoes stopped in front of me, and I looked up into the amused eyes of Dax. He peered down at me with a quizzical look. “Enjoying yourself?”

  Think fast, Elizabeth.

  “Just looking for my contact,” I said, patting the hardwood floor. “It popped out while I was looking for the restroom.”

  “Ah. You need some help then? It’s rather dark in here.”

  “No, I’m fine.” Pat, pat.

  A few ticks went by.

  I kept crawling around. Playing cool. Hoping he’d walk away. Praying.

  I chanced a look up to see him watching me in amusement.

  “Are you sure you don’t need help? That floor is terribly dirty.”

  “I don’t mind a little dirt. Improves your immune system. I ate it daily as a toddler.”

  He laughed. “Why don’t you just confess you were staring at my bro
ther and Nadia? Besides, I can see straight down your dress when you’re on your hands and knees. I don’t mind the view of your tits but figured you’d want to know.”

  Dammit!

  “Fine.” I stood up, brushing my dress down. “For your information, I don’t wear contacts. I just happened to be walking by and saw them, and you have to admit, they’re intense. It’s like a soap opera. Obviously I lack social skills and I’m nosey.”

  “Indeed.”

  His lofty English accent only made my mortification worse.

  I buried my face in my hands. “I should never have come to this party in the first place. I’m way out of my comfort zone, and your brother … well, I tried to flirt—pick him up, to be honest—and it blew up in my face.”

  “You fancy my brother?” His tone was surprised.

  I peeked through my fingers. “And by fancy you mean like?”

  He smirked. “As you Americans like to say, duh.”

  I bit my lip. “I barely know him.”

  Dax looked over my shoulder, eyes narrowed. “He’s coming out now. Let’s pretend to be madly in love.”

  “What?” He was crazier than I was.

  He sent me a long look. “Let’s give him something to think about … make him jealous. Kiss me.”

  I held my hands up to ward him off. “I don’t kiss guys with liquor on their breath—and probably a venereal disease.”

  He clutched his chest like I’d broken his heart. “Oh, you’re funny, but trust me on this. Declan likes you. I saw how he was talking to you. Kiss me, love, just do it.” His voice was insistent.

  Alarm bells went off. I clenched my fists.

  “No.”

  But he wasn’t listening.

  He gathered me in his arms, his strong arms cupping my shoulders and pulling me closer. He pressed his lips to mine, his hips maneuvering me against the wall behind me.

  The smell of alcohol on his breath slammed into me.

 

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