Filthy English (English #2) - Ilsa Madden-Mills Page 0,53
fiancé who’d arrived at my hotel six days earlier and tossed me into an emotional tailspin.
He’d knocked on my door, gone to his knees, and pleaded with me to take him back. Tears had been shed.
“You’ll always be the girl for me,” he promised, and the only reason he’d gotten cold feet was because he was afraid we were too young to make such a big commitment.
And the pretty blonde girl on Instagram? She’d happened to be at Cadillac’s while he was there and nothing had happened between them.
Basically, by the time I’d disappeared to London, the perfect guy had decided he couldn’t live without me.
Everything I’d wanted was back within my grasp.
“Everyone deserves a second chance,” my mom kept telling me.
Of course, we weren’t getting married anytime soon, but I couldn’t toss away our relationship either. We’d spent more than two years together and had a lot of memories. Good ones.
I got pulled back to the present when I noticed Malcolm snapping his fingers, one of the repetitive movements he used to alleviate stress. Meeting new people made him jittery, although most times it was the other person who got intimidated. At sixteen, he was already six-one with lean muscles and prone to say whatever popped in his head. His blue eyes bounced from me to Hartford and then back to the blonde.
He nodded, curly brown hair bouncing. “I’m Malcolm, and I want to see where Remi will live.”
“Maybe I’ll live here,” I told him gently. “We have to take a look first and see if it works out. Someone may have beat me to it.”
The girl smiled, making her even prettier. “No, it hasn’t been filled. Come in, please. I’m not the one who lives here, but I’ll introduce you to the person who owns the place. We’ve been moving in for the past couple of days, so it may be a bit messy.” She took a step back to let us enter. “I’m Elizabeth, by the way.”
“Remi,” I said with a nod, realizing I’d been so scattered I hadn’t even told her my name.
We all filed inside the small ceramic-tiled foyer that opened into a spacious area with an old brick fireplace, freshly waxed hardwood floors, and a pretty bay window with the panes cut into small diamond shapes. A faded couch, a navy leather recliner, and a gray media center with a huge television took up most of the den. Except for the couch, most of the furnishings looked new. The house smelled of tart lemons, perhaps from cleaning, and fresh paint. Whoever owned it took pride in it.
So far, so good, Remi.
A tall, heavily muscled man wearing a black baseball hat was on a ladder in the center of the den hanging a ceiling fan, but came down as we entered the room. He greeted us warmly, but that wasn’t what caught my eye. Nope. My eyes got tangled up on the small dragonfly tattoo on his neck.
And the chiseled jawline, straight nose, and piercing gray eyes.
Dread pooled in my stomach.
“Hiya,” he said and put his hand out to me. “I’m Declan.”
His familiar British accent sent goosebumps over my skin, and I gripped the straps of my purse as if it were a lifeline. God help me.
Stuffing down the urge to make a dash for the car, I stuck my hand out and shook his firm grip. “I’m—I’m Remi Montague. I’m here about the ad for a roommate.” I waved the printout, noticing my hand was shaking.
Hartford sent me a quizzical glance. I tried to smile.
Hartford and Declan shook hands. Everyone on campus knew Declan—and Dax.
“This house yours?” Hartford asked with a slight frown, no doubt because while Declan hadn’t been a Tau, everyone knew his brother was the poster boy for the fraternity.
“Nah,” Declan said but didn’t elaborate, careful eyes on Hartford. Apparently the rivalry extended to family too.
The blonde girl put her hand lightly on my shoulder, and I realized she’d said my name a few times. “ . . . want to follow me?”
Feeling numb yet oddly excited, I nodded, and she led us down a small hall, turned a corner, and we entered the kitchen.
With faded oak cabinets that had seen better days, a round table with orange vinyl-covered metal chairs, and a brand new stainless steel refrigerator, it was a mix of old and new.
But the only thing in the room that held my attention was Dax, standing with his back to us, legs slightly parted as he washed dishes