Dirty English

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  She peered up at me, and my fingers itched to smooth out the worry lines I saw on her face. “Declan? What are you doing here?”

  “Just having breakfast. Small world, huh?” I smiled down, resisting the urge to question her about the shadows in her blue eyes. She nodded, still visibly upset, as I stared over her shoulder at the table she’d left behind. A woman who resembled Elizabeth gaped at us while the man’s eyes narrowed in on me.

  I glanced back down at her and spoke softly. “Do I need to kick anyone’s arse?”

  “No,” she said, a look of desperation flickering across her face. “Just get me out of here before I say something I’ll regret.”

  I didn’t even pause. Whatever she needed right at that moment, I wanted to give it to her. I took her hand and led her through the maze of the restaurant, sending a wave to Dax and Max as we passed their table.

  Elizabeth didn’t even see them there.

  We went out the doors, and she came to a halt in the carpark as she looked around in a daze. Her shoulders hunched in on themselves and she let out a frustrated sound, her hands digging through her purse. “God, I’m so frazzled I don’t even remember where I parked.”

  I wanted to march back into that diner and find out exactly what had happened.

  “What’s going on? Who were those people?” The lady had to be her mum, but I wasn’t so sure about the man.

  She inhaled at my question and turned away from me, as if she didn’t want to face me. “I appreciate you coming over to help, but I—I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You’re hurting, Elizabeth. Sometimes, it helps to talk.” Shit, I didn’t know what else to say. I felt like a blundering wanker. But I wanted to make her feel better.

  “You want me to talk? I’ll talk. I’ll tell you that my whole life is ruined and some days it’s all I can do to remember the girl I used to be. I’ve never had much, but two years ago I lost everything. My innocence, my creativity, then my Granny, everything.” Her voice trembled, rippling with pain. “And you’d think she’d understand, but no, I’m always the one reaching out and begging her—my mother—to just see me. She wanted to abort me. She doesn’t think I know that, but I overheard her telling Granny once.” She covered her face. “God, I shouldn’t be telling you this stuff. It doesn’t even make sense to you.”

  I picked up her hand and took the keys she’d clasped in her fist. “Come on. I’ll drive you home. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  She sniffed, and I braced myself for tears that never came, and frankly, I wasn’t surprised. She might be vulnerable, but I sensed the steel underneath.

  She sighed and gave me a curious look. “What about your car?”

  “I came with Dax. He can drive by himself.” I would send him a text before we left.

  I waited anxiously while she decided.

  She sighed and sent me a wry half-smile. “Thank you. I’m glad you were here today. You always seem to be right where I need you.”

  I nodded and scanned the carpark until I found her white Camry. We walked over to it, and I opened the passenger door for her. Her blue eyes roved over my face as I buckled her in, our arms brushing. Sparks.

  This girl. Her. What was it about her that had me twisted up in knots?

  Since the moment she’d walked in that party, I hadn’t been able to get her off my mind.

  Shit. But she was all wrong for me. I mean, she was skittish as a colt. How in the hell would she ever fit in my world?

  She won’t, the cynic in me said.

  “Why are you so nice to me?” she said suddenly as I set her purse at her feet. Her eyes searched mine. She continued. “I mean, I made a fool of myself at your party, then I came in your apartment and hit on you and then pushed you away right when things got heavy …” She swallowed and gazed out the window. “I’m sorry. I’m a real bitch.”

  I exhaled and bent down on my knees next to her seat. We stared at each other.

  Breathlessness mixed with exhilaration hit me, as if I were about to take a dive off a cliff straight into an ocean below. I pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I’m nice to you because you’re worth it, Elizabeth.”

  THAT AFTERNOON I took a nap feeling as worn and thin as old paper, as if I’d been folded and refolded a million times.

  Visits with Mom tended to do that, but today had been the worst ever.

  I made a mental note to call her tomorrow after the dust had settled to make sure she and Karl had given up on their plan.

  I groaned and rolled out of bed from my nap and got dressed, pulling on a pair of black eyelet shorts and a halter top. I brushed my hair in a ponytail and applied makeup with a heavier hand than usual. My body was jumpy and twitchy. I needed out of the apartment, but I couldn’t think of a single place to go. Blake and Shelley had gone to lunch together earlier, and I hadn’t heard back from either of them.

  After pacing around the apartment, I peeked out the balcony window to check out Declan’s place. He’d mentioned going to work out on the way home and then seeing Dax, so I assumed he hadn’t returned.

  The minutes ticked by. I paced past my extra bedroom a few times but nothing eased me. Something insistent clawed at my brain, itching to get out. Finally, I stepped inside the extra bedroom and turned the light on. My artist pad sat out on a small desk with a myriad of colored pencils next to it—just waiting for me to draw.

  Not thinking about it too much, I walked over to the pad and opened it, thumbing through some of the old designs I’d created. After a few minutes of mulling, I grabbed one of the pencils and twirled it between my fingers.

  I licked my suddenly dry lips, feeling the tendrils of inspiration for the first time in ages.

  And the thing is, my hand seemed to know exactly what I needed to create. Something vibrant. Beautiful.

  I closed my eyes and pictured the tattoo on Declan’s neck.

  I recalled the reverence in his voice when he’d talked about his mother.

  What must it be like to be on the receiving end of that kind of emotion—from Declan?

  With furious fingers, I drew half a dozen different dragonflies and then used colored pencils to decorate them. Some were big, some were small, but all had that ethereal quality I imagined a dragonfly had.

  I pictured engraving a dragonfly on a bracelet. Or a plaque on a necklace.

  No, no.

  But the more I thought of it, the more I realized I was thinking way too much about Declan and not just the dragonfly. Frustrated, I set the pad aside.

  I didn’t need to think about him.

  He was exactly what I didn’t need.

  I stood and paced, shaking my hands out.

  God, I needed a release.

  I needed someone inside me.

  And that person could never be Declan. I wanted him too much.

  Because today in the car when he’d said I was worth it, all I’d wanted to do was wrap my arms around his strong shoulders and sink into him. I’d wanted to unbuckle my seat belt and crawl in the back with him. I’d wanted to trace my tongue over every inch of him, my hands following, learning the map of his body, committing it to memory.

  But I can’t!

  Which is why an hour later I found myself sitting in the bookstore café, sipping on a soda as people came and went.

  It wasn’t my night to work, but then that wasn’t why I was here.

  I found an easy mark, a cute-in-a-geeky-way kind of guy. I studied him, recognizing him from an astronomy class last fall.

  Medium height and lean, he strolled among the stacks with an intense expression. In one hand he had a notebook and periodically he’d pause at one of the chairs at the end of each row and sit down to jot notes.

  Studious. Not over-the-top hot. Perfect.

  I left money on the table for my drink, gathered my purse, and made my way over to him.

  A dark corner of my mind whispered yes, he was the one tonight, but my heart was silently judging me. I ignored my stupid heart and
stopped in front of my mark.

  I leaned against the shelving. “If I had to guess, I’d say you are a TA prepping for our first week of classes. Your professor must love you.” I smiled broadly.

  He glanced up from his seat, swept his eyes over me appreciatively, and stood. He grinned in a self-deprecating kind of way I found endearing. “Uh, yeah, but the professor I work for barely knows I’m alive. I do all this work with no recognition.”

  “That sucks.” I stuck my hand out. “Elizabeth Bennett, by the way. Sorry to interrupt, but I had to come over and say hi. We had a class together last year? You sat in the middle and I sat in the front.” I laughed. “Truthfully, I always wanted to talk to you, but when you left class you always had a girl waiting for you in the hallway.” This part was true. He was always on my list of possibilities, but I never fooled around with guys with girlfriends.

  He leaned in and took my hand briefly, giving me a clear view of his soft brown eyes. “Harry Carter, astronomy major. I remember you, of course. You wore lots of jewelry to class. Yeah, that was my ex. We broke up this summer.” He made a little shrug, his shoulders dipping. “Her loss, I guess.”

  And check. No attachments.

  “My gain.” I grinned.

  He laughed, a gleam in his eyes as his gaze lingered on my legs and then moved up to the red halter top. I was tall and slim, but my breasts were a good C cup.

  “What are you doing here?” He leaned against the stacks, calling attention to the nice set of arms he had. Hmm, closer up, he was definitely hotter.

  “Hanging out. Looking for a guy like you.” I peeked at him from underneath black lashes and laughed. This part was always so easy, mostly because I wasn’t being myself. I pretended to be someone else.

  Someone who didn’t carry pain around.

  I bit my lip. “Sorry, I tend to talk before my brain can tell me to shut up. That was way too forward and you probably think I’m a flirt—but I’m not. It’s just—I go with the truth. I’m upfront and some people kinda freak out about that.”

  “No, I like it.” He cleared his throat and waved his hand outside to the street. “I was actually about to go have dinner across the street. You want to join me?”

  “Sure.” Success.

  WE LEFT THE bookstore and along the way I explained to Harry how I didn’t drink and never spent time with guys who did. He seemed on board with it, and we found a quiet booth in the back of the restaurant and ordered hamburgers and fries. Before long, a local band set up and started playing, and the lights went low. Harry scooted his chair close to me, his leg pressed firmly against mine. I reciprocated, brushing my arm against his when I could, letting my fingers touch him as often as possible. Before dinner was over, his hand was tucked into my upper thigh, his thumb caressing my skin softly.

  The way he made me feel and the way he gazed at me was nice, but something was off. There was no fire, no burning need. I forced myself to carry on though.

  He asked me to dance when a slow song came on, but I said no. I immediately regretted it. He was the one for tonight. Right? Why was I being so wishy-washy?

  “Kiss me,” I whispered in Harry’s ear a few minutes later as we still sat at the table.

  Feeling like I had something to prove.

  He leaned down and captured my lips, his tongue slipping into my mouth with just the right amount of pressure. Light, nothing hard or hot.

  Flashes of Declan kept popping up in my head, and I remembered how just the tiniest brush of my hand in his had been electric.

  Where was he tonight?

  Why did I care?

  He’d made it plain he wasn’t into one-night stands.

  And that’s what this was all about. It didn’t have to be spectacular like I imagined sex would be with Declan.

  Mmm, Declan … his big body covering mine, his sensuous lips caressing my mouth, his hands framing my face as we kissed …

  “… next Friday night at the bonfire. Want to come?”

  I startled as he toyed with my fingers, his head bent low as he gazed into my eyes.

  I tried to piece together what conversation I’d missed. “Oh, sorry. I can’t.”

  Disappointment flashed on his face. “You’re distracted. Am I that horrible of a kisser?”

  Suddenly everything felt wrong. Him. Dinner. The touching. The kiss.

  He kissed me again when I didn’t answer, his lips more insistent this time, his tongue massaging mine. He groaned and I put some effort into the act, parting my lips and rubbing his leg with my hands, skating close to the growing length in his crotch. Our hands were hidden, and I pushed on him, making him moan. He put his hand on top of mine, grinding it on top of him.

  “I want you, Elizabeth,” he whispered. “Right now. Let’s get out of here. Mmm?” He nipped at my lips playfully while his eyes begged me to say yes.

  But …

  Something was niggling in the corners of my brain.

  Don’t do it.

  “Actually, I need to go.” I pulled away from him and put some distance between us in the booth. He wasn’t the guy on my mind, and it wouldn’t be fair. I needed some time to think. Maybe I’d rushed into this a little too fast. “Look, it’s great touching base with you, but I—I didn’t realize it’s already kinda late. Classes start tomorrow.”

  His face fell. “Seriously? After all that?”

  I picked up my purse. “College calls, and I’m serious about my studies. Maybe we can run into each other again.” I looked at my watch. “Plus you have a professor to impress tomorrow.”

  He let out a heavy sigh and rose up from the booth, looking at me intently. “That’s too bad. I kinda felt like we were just getting good here.” He blushed. “You’re a gorgeous girl, Elizabeth—and nice, of course. I’d really love to see you again.”

  “Sorry, I can’t.” My voice had sharpened. “I need to get to my car and get home.”

  He shrugged it off and we each paid our checks and walked outside together. It was dark, and I dreaded the walk back to my car at the bookstore. We walked in a strained silence. His car was a few rows over from mine and after telling him goodnight, I turned back to mine.

  He grabbed my hand and tugged me back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Come on, babe, don’t you want to hang out some more? I don’t want this night to end.”

  Babe? Didn’t want this night to end? Hmm, Harry was more of a player than I realized.

  “I have to go.” I eased my hand free. Clingy guys made me itchy.

  “Wait. Can I get your phone number at least? I mean, it kinda feels like fate, us meeting at the bookstore …”

  Fate? Ha.

  Fine.

  “You can give me yours.”

  I’d never call it.

  He wrote out his digits on a piece of paper, and I tucked it absently in my shorts’ pocket.

  I said goodbye again, got in my car, and left. Tonight had been a mistake.

  Ten minutes later, I pulled into my complex and parked. My eyes went straight to Declan’s Jeep. He was home, and part of me wanted to knock on his door and just … I don’t know … talk.

  I made my way up the staircase to the breezeway that led to my door. I fished around in my purse and found my keys just as a loud male voice came from behind me on the breezeway a few feet away.

  “Elizabeth, wait a minute!”

  I turned, half expecting to see Harry. I was ready to tell him off for following me home like a creeper, but the truth dawned on me as I watched the handsome guy jog over to me.

  I froze for a second and then snapped myself out of it. I tried to shove my key in the lock but fumbled and dropped them to the ground.

  There he stood, Colby Scott, tall and handsome, wearing black pants and a black shirt, his hair swept low over his forehead, ice-blue eyes glittering at me. He looked the same but thinner and harder, a tightness around his face as his chin jutted out.

  Of course, I’d seen him in passing in Petal a
fter the hotel. Once at a gas station when I was filling up my car to head back to Raleigh and another time at the local Wal-Mart. He’d leered at me but had never spoken, and hearing his voice now was a shock.

  “Don’t come any closer to me or I will scream this place down and someone will call the cops.” I bit the words out, but inside I quaked.

  He held his hands up. “Hang on. I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to pop by and say hi. In case you haven’t heard the good news, I’ll be a Whitman student come Monday. Got kicked out of NYU, I’m afraid—too much partying apparently. As you can imagine, Dad wasn’t too thrilled about that.” He sent me a wry grin, as if expecting me to smile along with him. “Anyway, I just got settled into an apartment nearby. I couldn’t be this close and not look you up, Elizabeth. We dated once. We had some good times. Aren’t you glad to see me?” His low southern drawl washed over me in waves. Making me ill.

  Was he crazy? Didn’t he know what he’d done to me?

  My gut churned as the entire world tilted on its axis, and the only way I was able to stay upright was by leaning against my door.

  Panic beat at me.

  God. Don’t pass out.

  “Get away from me. Now.” I panted, the air growing thin. My heart thundered.

  Had he been waiting for me in the parking lot?

  Even if I wanted to scream, I couldn’t seem to muster up the air to do it. Somehow I managed to bend down and snatch my keys.

  He smiled, raking his eyes over my body. He came closer. “You’re still as pretty as ever, Elizabeth. I hope we can catch up real soon.”

  My hand clutched my keys as the fear escalated higher. I made a fist with my keys and showed him. “Don’t come one inch closer.”

  He laughed and placed his hand up on the wall behind my head. “You’re not going to do a damn thing. You’re too scared. Besides I’m not here to bother you, only to get a welcome to Whitman from you. Does everyone here know what a sexy little thing you are? How you like it? Hmm?”

  I snapped away from him, using my hands to push off his chest.

  If I could just get to Declan’s door.