than in London.
Malcolm glanced at me. “Did you know this?”
“She has one too,” Dax said, stalking around the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He chugged it, eyes on me, making me squirm.
Malcolm cocked his head, studied me, and then checked out Dax’s face. A flicker of understanding dawned. “Oh. I get it. You two like each other. You’re probably having sex.”
Dax spit out a mouthful of water then grabbed a dishtowel to get it up off the floor.
“Malcolm, remember those conversations that aren’t your business? This is one of those,” I said sternly.
Dax rose back up from cleaning the water.
“Are you mad at me for saying inappropriate things?” he asked Dax, a dip in his shoulders.
“No, dude. Not at all.”
Malcolm nodded. “Good. Then tell me what it’s like to get a tattoo.”
“Sure.” They sat down at the table as I stayed at the stove, listening as Dax described the process, how long it takes to heal, and if it hurts. Malcolm had a million questions, and Dax answered each one, describing the shop where we’d gone and the different images he’d seen people get. He showed him his dragonfly, turning his bicep so Malcolm could peer down at it and trace over it.
“Remi loves flying things,” he mused, glancing at me. “She tried to beat me at Scrabble with quail but I got her with Xerox.”
“Good job.” Dax laughed. “Once I beat my brother Declan with Xylol. He claimed it wasn’t a real word, so I pulled the dictionary out and proved it. It’s some kind of volatile hydrocarbon apparently. I won, and to this day he still doesn’t know that it was a total Hail Mary. Now I refuse to play with him, so I can say I won the last game.”
Malcolm laughed and wandered off to watch television while I finished everything up on the stove.
“Do you want to eat with us?” I asked, at the sudden silence in the kitchen.
He walked over and stood next to me, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. He studied me intently like he always did.
“Stop staring at me,” I said. “You’re making me paranoid and it’s kinda creepy.”
He spun me around and pinned me against the counter. “Is it really over?”
I didn’t have to ask what he was talking about.
“Yes.”
“Why?” His voice was raw.
I touched his lips, wanting them on mine. A few beats of silence went by.
He groaned. “Remi, just say it.”
“Because he’s not you. I want you.”
He inhaled sharply, fear on his face. “Remi, don’t you see—you don’t need me. You need a guy like him. I can’t be what’s on your list. I don’t have a plan after college. I’m not responsible. I live from day to day. Hell, I don’t even know if I can sell this house.”
My eyes softened. “For you, I don’t have a list. I don’t need one. You check all my boxes, Dax.”
He let me go and stalked around the room, his hands all over the place as he spoke. “Every fiber of me wants to believe what you say. I’ve pictured us a million times, but in the end you leave me for someone who’s got his shit together—like fucking Hartford. I can’t watch someone I—I . . .” He stopped and exhaled. “You’re the only girl who’s ever walked away from me. Ever. You went out my frat bedroom door, and you never looked back. You were pregnant and you never looked back.”
“We aren’t those people anymore,” I said, watching him pace.
He strode back over to me, eyes flashing. “The thing is, I don’t think I could ever leave you, Remi.”
“Dax, please.” His voice was breaking me. I didn’t understand.
“Since your dad died, you’ve gotten it in your head what kind of man you need to be happy. I’m not it.” He paused. “And now you decide I’m the one. I can’t . . .” He let me go, grabbed his shirt off the counter, and slipped it back on. “I—I need a break from this.”
I clutched the counter. He needed a break? The word pinged around in my head. God. Hartford had wanted a break, too. My chest rose.
“Dax, don’t . . .” My voice croaked, and I stopped, afraid I’d cry.
His expression was torn as he gazed at me, his eyes excruciatingly vulnerable. He opened his mouth to speak but slammed it shut. “I’m scared, Remi. Fucking scared. You. Can. Hurt. Me.”
And he was gone.
I held onto the counter as he left