Filthy English (English #2) - Ilsa Madden-Mills Page 0,81
purse and pulled out his ring. “I completely forgot to give this back to you last night.”
He blinked, his eyes sad. “Keep it.”
I frowned. “I can’t do that.”
He met my eyes. “I don’t want it. Toss it away or at least sell it and get some of your other wedding expenses back. I’m sure your dress was nonrefundable.”
I bit my lip. “No. You keep it and trade it in for another ring when you meet the girl you’re really supposed to be with.”
Because I wasn’t that girl.
I pressed it into his palm and he grasped my fingers, taking the ring.
He nodded, and I watched him walk away.
In the end, Hartford wasn’t mine.
Dax wasn’t mine. Not really. He’d said so at the bar.
But I still had me.
And I’d be okay.
The evening rolled in, and I met Lulu at the Student Center for dinner. After that, we went to the Tiger Bookstore and picked up last-minute supplies and books that we hadn’t already purchased.
“Watch it. Number One Whitman Bitch headed our way.” Lulu poked me in the arm and pulled me to a standstill in the spiral notebook section as Eva-Maria waltzed by us with a group of her cohorts, all dressed in their sorority jerseys and skinny jeans.
Glancing around, Eva-Maria’s eyes drifted over me—and then came back. She said something to her girlfriends, and they looked over at us.
Lulu flipped them off.
I laughed. “Stop, Lu.”
But Eva-Maria didn’t bat an eyelash. I’m sure she’d seen worse from girls who didn’t like her. With a swish of her hips, her petite frame sashayed over to us, leaving her friends behind.
“Remi,” she called as she approached, coming to a stop in front of us.
“That’s my name,” I said.
“What do you want?” Lulu snarked, her eyes glittering.
She exhaled, a conflicted expression on her face as if she was unsure how to begin. “I’ve been thinking about freshman year. Actually, Dax and I spoke—well, he told me off to be truthful. Anyway, I wanted you to know that I’m sorry about everything that happened. Dax has never been mine—or anyone’s. I was just a kid really, and I’d like to think I’m better now.”
“Yeah, right,” Lulu muttered.
“Shh,” I said. “Let her talk.”
She twisted her lips. “About Dax—everyone adores him, especially the little sisters. Heck, everyone on campus wants him—but he’s never wanted anyone. But, the day you left he was . . .”
My throat caught. “Yeah?”
“Different.” She sighed, lifting her eyes up to me. “We were never together again after that.”
She shrugged and made her way back to her friends.
“Once a slut, always a slut,” Lulu said, watching the group of girls strut across the courtyard like they owned the place.
“Wow. That was . . . totally out of nowhere,” I said.
“You don’t buy that crap, do you?”
I thought about it.
“She was such a bitch to you, Remi. You can’t possibly forget that.”
“No, I won’t forget it, but I appreciate her words . . .” I stopped, thinking. “But it’s funny. She doesn’t matter. Not anymore. She’s a zit on the face of the earth, and I see her for what she is. Insecure. Needy. Dax never cared about her.”
Her eyes softened. “Does he care about you?”
I couldn’t answer that.
The night came and Dax never came home. I waited up to talk to him, but at two in the morning I gave up and made my way upstairs and crashed. He was probably at the Tau house. With someone.
Tuesday dawned, and I got up, hoping to catch him in case he’d gotten in after I’d gone to bed, but there was no sign of him. Breakfast was on the table again, telling me he’d at least stopped by, but because I was ornery, I didn’t look inside. I grabbed a breakfast bar instead and headed out to my car.
Tuesday was my light day with only two classes, and after they were done, I hit the library with Lulu to pick up some reading material for one of my upper-level biology classes. Lulu dropped down in the fashion section on the lower level while I headed upstairs.
It was only when I’d gotten a few paces in that I happened to glance down one of the hallways to see Dax at a study table with a few others. They had books open, talking quietly. His head was bent low, his pen scribbling in his notebook.
It didn’t feel right to bug him while he was studying—but dammit, I walked over anyway.