Read Filthy English for Free Online Page B

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