Jagged Harts, page 13
His tone lacks any emotion. If I didn’t know better, I would say that we were just discussing where to eat later. My heart aches at the pure pain that etches across his face with every passing second. I don’t even think he is really here with me right now. He is stuck in his own head. He is fucking suffocating. I can practically see it, practically feel it.
Without thinking twice, I grab Dax and pull him in for the tightest hug that I can manage with my mangled ribs. He resists only for a second before he wraps his arms around my waist and buries his face into my neck. I feel hot tears hit my skin, but I don’t acknowledge them, knowing that this silent comfort is what he needs right now.
I stand there stroking the back of his head gently like a child who needs to be consoled, because right now that’s exactly what he is. I didn’t even know his mom had died, and four years ago? He was only 18. It would have happened a little before he entered the UFC. Pieces of the puzzle start to fall in to place, giving me glimpses as to why Dax is the way he is.
After another minute or so, I take his hand in mine and guide him over to the couch before I push him to sit down. I sit next to him and pull his head over to rest on my shoulder where I continue to run my fingers through his dirty blonde hair. His eyes are closed as he leans into my touch, drinking in the affection that I am offering.
“What was her name?” I ask carefully, not quite sure if I should keep silent or not. It takes a few seconds before he finally responds.
“Maria.”
His voice is rough like it has been raked over hot stones and the vulnerability layering it twists something inside of me.
“That’s really pretty,” I smile softly. “I bet she was gorgeous.”
“She really was,” he agrees.
He lifts a hand and pulls at the thin chain around his neck that I have noticed a few times. When he holds it out for me to look at it, I notice that it is a woman’s necklace. It is a beautifully constructed silver angel with diamonds in the wings.
“This was my mom’s. I gave it to her for her last birthday that we spent together. I thought it was perfect since I used to call her an angel for being able to put up with me. She always agreed. I like to wear it, makes me feel close to her.”
I reach my hand out and hold it gently as I examine it.
“It’s beautiful.”
He nods. “I usually go and visit her grave at least once a week. But time has just gotten away from me lately, I guess. I woke up this morning and for a minute I forgot what day it even was. It’s like I am forgetting her, and I fucking hate myself for it.”
I pause for a second before I reach over and grab his hand, interlocking our fingers together. I wait to see if he is going to pull away but instead he squeezes my hand so hard my knuckles nearly crack.
“Dax, you aren’t forgetting her. You are healing. She knows what is in your heart and so do you. The fact that you even feel guilty proves that you will always love her deeply.
He shrugs as he squeezes my hand tighter but doesn’t say anything more. We sit in silence for a few minutes before I break it.
“Can I meet her?” I ask quietly.
His head lifts so he can meet my eyes, a confused look across his face. Trust me, I am a little surprised that those words came out of my mouth too. But I still want to.
“She is dead, Aubrey,” he snaps like he thinks I am not listening.
I do my best to repress my eyeroll but know that I don’t succeed.
“Yeah, I heard that part. I meant; can I go to her grave? Talk to her?”
Now he looks really confused as he looks at me carefully.
“Why?”
Now it’s my turn to shrug.
“I’d really like to meet the woman that put up with you for so many years. Maybe she can give me some tips,” I tease.
He is quiet for a few moments, and I am almost certain that he is gearing up to tell me to fuck off. Instead, Dax surprises the hell out of me by giving me a small smile and nodding his head. 20 minutes later we are standing in front of a headstone with a beautiful angel engraved into the stone.
Maria Hart
Loving Mother, Sister & Angel
April 23, 1980 – November 12, 2018
Dax moves over to stand in front of it, brushing his hand against the angel while holding his necklace with the other.
“Hey Ma,” he says softly, his voice clogged with thick emotion. “I brought someone who wants to meet you. This is my friend Aubrey.”
I smile at the introduction while I plop down, crossing my legs as I sit in the grass. I look up and smile at Dax and he returns it before squatting to sit next to me. I then turn to the head stone.
“Hello, Maria. It’s really nice to meet you. You can call me Bree.”
I look over to see Dax watching me with an intrigued expression, but still smiling. I reach out to grab his hand and squeeze it before continuing.
“I just wanted to let you know that Dax is still the pain in the ass that I am sure he was for you. But don’t worry, I am working on him.” I hear Dax chuckle at that, but I am too focused on my conversation to indulge him. “I am sure that he tells you enough, and you see it every day, but he loves you very much. I can tell that you were the best mom to him, and he could never thank you enough for that. Any kid would have been lucky to have you as their mother. Thank you for loving him so well.”
Dax slowly pulls me into his side and tucks me against him, his arm draping around me while we sit there in comfortable silence. To my surprise, I don’t try to pull away nor do I want to. Every time that I am with Dax a little bit of my resolve weakens despite how hard I try to keep it strong. We understand each other in a way that others just never would get. His darkness is the same inky black as mine. His broken jagged pieces are a mirror image of mine.
It’s Saturday night when I get a call from Kayla.
“Hey, what are you up to? Psh, what am I saying, you are probably in bed with cookie dough ice cream in your pj’s, binging Netflix.”
I look at the paused Netflix show before looking down at my pajama clad lap with a bowl of ice cream in it.
“No,” I bite out. “It’s chocolate peanut butter. Cole ate the last of my cookie dough.”
She cackles on the other end.
“You are so predictable. Well, jump in the shower and put some effort in. We are going out. Tonight.”
“Pass,” I groan.
“Sorry, honey. That wasn’t a request. I will be there in 15 minutes.”
“So, I have 30.”
“Same thing.”
She hangs up at that and I roll my eyes and toss my phone to the side before I drag my butt out of bed and get in the shower. I swear, I need to kick that girl to the curb.
45 minutes later Kayla and I are making last minute touch ups in my mirror.
“We look so hot!” She squeals.
I slipped into a slinky black dress of hers with a deep v neckline that showcases my tits nicely. The dress hugs my waist and is paired with some sparkly heels, another contribution of Kayla’s. She did my hair in bombshell curls that fall loose against my back. Thankfully with the help of concealer, my bruising is practically gone so I won’t get the open-mouthed stares that I was getting before. Though tonight I may be getting stares for another reason because even I can admit, I look fucking good. Maybe I should try putting effort in once in a while if this is the result.
When Kayla showed up earlier, she was rambling excitedly about some frat party that is going on tonight that she scored an invite to. Apparently, she was told she could bring ‘hot friends.’ What an honor to be included. I roll my eyes.
Jack asses.
Kayla loops her arm through mine as we make our way across campus. I am pretty sure she is just using me for stability while she attempts to walk in her sky-high heels. When we get to the party it is everything that I imagined a frat party on a Saturday night would be like. People are pouring out of the house and onto the lawn with red solo cups in hand. The girls have so little on that they could be mistaken for auditioning for an open spot at the playboy mansion.
When we step inside the house, the smell of stale beer, musk and sweat assaults my nose. Not the greatest but what do you expect when you cram this many people in to one small frat house that looks to be well over seventy years old.
Kayla pulls me in close, shouting over the thumping music. “I’m gonna grab us some drinks!”
I give her a thumbs up as she teeters off in her heels like a baby giraffe. I look around the room, checking out my surroundings. Nothing too exciting to report. Just a bunch of co-ed’s humping and grinding on each other while they are in various states of intoxication. My bed and ice cream were way better than this.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
AUBREY
As my eyes sweep through the party they suddenly land on two green eyes that are steadily trained on me. He is wearing a black leather jacket, white t-shirt and dark wash jeans that make him look absolutely edible. Fuck.
Dax must be able to read my mind because when I look back up, he smirks at me before sauntering over to me. I mentally prepare myself for whatever he is about to say while I remind myself to keep my guard up. No matter how smooth and sinfully sexy he is I can’t let him get to me.
Be strong, Aubrey.
“Hey Bree,” he says, his voice smooth like honey.
Ah, fuck. I struggle not to physically shiver at the way my nickname sounds on his lips. He is totally fucking getting to me and this little acquaintanceship thing that we have going on is getting increasingly dangerous. Trying to brush aside the bubbling feelings inside of me I go for an air of indifference.
“I only let people I really like call me, Bree,” I say coolly.
He smirks at me as he raises an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah? Do I not make the cut?”
“Nah. How does that feel on that inflatable sized ego?”
He barks out a laugh before shaking his head.
“Not good. I’ll wear you down,” he says with a wink.
My heart skips at that wink and my stomach drops at the determination in his words. As much as I don’t want his words to be true, I fear they may be.
“Can I get you a drink?” He asks.
I am about to bite out some clever response when I see Kayla stepping up next to me.
“Hey!” I greet her, grabbing the drink she offers me and looping my arm through hers.
This move not only helps stabilize Kayla once again but also is the perfect excuse to get a few feet of distance between me and Dax. I turn back to face him as I raise my drink.
“I’m good, thanks.”
Unfortunately, none of that discourages him. He takes a huge step towards me until I am practically plastered against him. He leans in close to whisper into my ear as he does.
“Do you want to dance?”
For a moment my mind short circuits. I am overwhelmed by the smell of mint and leather and him. Oh fuck. No. Not good. I’m not exactly sure where this sudden flirtatious side of Dax came from. Maybe it is because we kissed the other night and neither of us has recognized or talked about it since. Maybe it is because we have been spending so much time together.
Or maybe he really likes me.
No. Fuck that. There is no way in hell the playboy in him would ever let him settle down with one girl and I am not interested in being a one and done. I will not be just another woman that falls at the feet of Dax Hart. I will not be another statistic.
Steeling my resolve and thanking the big man upstairs that I was able to talk myself off of that bridge that I definitely almost jumped off of, I wipe my face clean of any and all emotion as I look at him head on.
“Nope,” I pop, before turning and grabbing Kayla’s hand as I drag her towards the dancefloor.
I start swaying to the beat, doing my best to shake off the creeping feelings that are trying to take up permanent residence in my chest. I’m also trying to ignore the hypnotic eyes that I can practically feel drilling holes into my back.
When I turn to look at Kayla, I see that her eyes are wide, and her mouth is hanging open.
“Uh, did you just blow off Dax Hart? That man is fine as hell! I would climb him like a tree in a heartbeat,” she shouts over the beat of the song.
I snort. “Yeah, you and every other girl in here it seems.” I pause for a second, trying to come up with an excuse as to why I just blew off the Adonis of campus. “He is just not my type.”
I forgot for a moment that very few know Dax and I even interact at all. Cole knows that Dax is helping me with my car, but I knew bringing the subject up with Kayla would be opening the door to endless questions that I didn’t want to answer, so I didn’t bother. The only people that know we use the same gym are the guys at the gym, so I guess our acquaintanceship has been kind of on the down low.
She laughs while swaying her hips.
“Honey, he is everyone’s type. I was at The White Oak last night and he had Charlene Johnson practically dry humping him at their table. Then they both mysteriously disappeared to the bathroom at the same time. She came out with the most satisfied smile I have ever seen. I’d kill to look like that after bathroom sex with a guy.”
My ice runs cold at her words and my smile disappears. Right after he dropped me off at my dorm from the graveyard where I held his hand as he cried over his dead mother and spoke to her for hours, he went and fucked some random bitch in the bathroom of my fucking work? I shrug at Kayla so that she doesn’t see the jealousy that is stewing inside of me.
I know that I have no right to be jealous. He is just fixing my car for me, he helped me out when I got hurt at fight night and we have talked a bit and hung out but it’s not like we are together or anything. I don’t even want that anyways. So why does hearing about him hanging out with me during the day and fucking random bitches at night feel like a knife to the gut?
Whatever, it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that whatever I thought might be going on between us has been effectively blown to smithereens. All developing feelings I was starting to have for him are gone in an instant. Great, right? I am sure as hell not going to let Dax motherfucking Hart ruin my night.
A pair of strong arms snake around my waist before hands settle on my hips. My hackles rise and I am about to tell Mr. Dude Bro where he can shove his hands, when a familiar voice whispers into my ear.
“Darlin’, I couldn’t stay away any longer. You are driving every man in here crazy.”
I turn around and smile up through my eyelashes. Cole is cute. His brown hair is perfectly quaffed, falling slightly in his eyes that only amps up his boyish charm. His dark Henley is clinging to his body, displaying his solid chest while his jeans are tight on his muscular thighs. His trademark twinkle plays in his sapphire eyes I can’t help but want to keep it there.
“Just friends, golden boy,” I remind him before I wrap my arms around his shoulders and begin swaying my body against him with the beat.
His smile grows as he tightens his grip on my hips, brining me in closer.
“For now.”
“Forever,” I say with a laugh as I shake my head and spin my hips.
We dance like that for a couple of songs laughing and smiling. His hands wander lower and lower until they finally land low, cupping my ass and tugging me in so our bodies are completely flush.
I raise a questioning eyebrow at him with an amused smirk across my face, but I don’t push him away. I know it is probably fucked up that I am letting him do this right now. I know that he has a little crush on me. He has made it pretty damn obvious. I shouldn’t be leading him on like I am, and I definitely shouldn’t be using him to forget about how Dax screwing some bitch in a bathroom fucking hurts. But despite all of that Cole seems to be enjoying himself and all I want to do is have a good night. I will set things straight with him tomorrow, tonight I need the distraction.
One of Cole’s hands squeeze my ass for a second and before I can even react, I hear a loud crash from behind us. I look over to see a broken bottle of beer on the floor as Dax stands above it, his fists clenched, jaw tight and eyes on fire directed right at Cole. Oh fuck.
I can tell just from there little interaction at The White Oak that these two don’t get along and that previous tension only seems to ratchet higher when Cole notices Dax’s glare before he pulls me into his side tighter and sends Dax a scathing look of his own.
Fuck. Really, Cole?
Within seconds Dax storms over to us, reaching down and yanking my arm to pull me from Cole’s grip. I stumble in my heels for a few steps until I steady myself in front of him, shooting him my most poisonous look as I do.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“You are,” he seethes before he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again the fire is a little more contained but still there, nonetheless.
“Can we have a minute? In private.” He spits out that last part while looking over my head at Cole. I don’t have to turn around to see his reaction, I can practically feel the anger vibrating off Cole.
Internally I groan. I seriously don’t have time for his bullshit. Fuck him.
“Nah, I’m good. Now I will ask again, what the hell is up your ass tonight, Dax?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs suddenly acting like he didn’t just storm over here and make a huge ass scene as he crosses his arms. “I just didn’t take you for the easy type. Guess I didn’t have you figured out like I thought I did. Apparently, you will turn into a whore for anyone if they give you attention for long enough.”
I wind back and throw every ounce of power I can into a right hook to his jaw. He stumbles back a few steps and the whole room becomes deathly silent with only the music in the background making any noise. I stare daggers at him, daring him to talk shit again.
Are you fucking kidding me?
I can’t believe that I ever thought there was something decent about him. That he was a good guy once you got underneath all of the bullshit. I thought…I don’t know what I fucking thought but clearly I was wrong. There is a small number of things that can actually penetrate through my armor and calling me that word is just about the worst one.
Without thinking twice, I grab Dax and pull him in for the tightest hug that I can manage with my mangled ribs. He resists only for a second before he wraps his arms around my waist and buries his face into my neck. I feel hot tears hit my skin, but I don’t acknowledge them, knowing that this silent comfort is what he needs right now.
I stand there stroking the back of his head gently like a child who needs to be consoled, because right now that’s exactly what he is. I didn’t even know his mom had died, and four years ago? He was only 18. It would have happened a little before he entered the UFC. Pieces of the puzzle start to fall in to place, giving me glimpses as to why Dax is the way he is.
After another minute or so, I take his hand in mine and guide him over to the couch before I push him to sit down. I sit next to him and pull his head over to rest on my shoulder where I continue to run my fingers through his dirty blonde hair. His eyes are closed as he leans into my touch, drinking in the affection that I am offering.
“What was her name?” I ask carefully, not quite sure if I should keep silent or not. It takes a few seconds before he finally responds.
“Maria.”
His voice is rough like it has been raked over hot stones and the vulnerability layering it twists something inside of me.
“That’s really pretty,” I smile softly. “I bet she was gorgeous.”
“She really was,” he agrees.
He lifts a hand and pulls at the thin chain around his neck that I have noticed a few times. When he holds it out for me to look at it, I notice that it is a woman’s necklace. It is a beautifully constructed silver angel with diamonds in the wings.
“This was my mom’s. I gave it to her for her last birthday that we spent together. I thought it was perfect since I used to call her an angel for being able to put up with me. She always agreed. I like to wear it, makes me feel close to her.”
I reach my hand out and hold it gently as I examine it.
“It’s beautiful.”
He nods. “I usually go and visit her grave at least once a week. But time has just gotten away from me lately, I guess. I woke up this morning and for a minute I forgot what day it even was. It’s like I am forgetting her, and I fucking hate myself for it.”
I pause for a second before I reach over and grab his hand, interlocking our fingers together. I wait to see if he is going to pull away but instead he squeezes my hand so hard my knuckles nearly crack.
“Dax, you aren’t forgetting her. You are healing. She knows what is in your heart and so do you. The fact that you even feel guilty proves that you will always love her deeply.
He shrugs as he squeezes my hand tighter but doesn’t say anything more. We sit in silence for a few minutes before I break it.
“Can I meet her?” I ask quietly.
His head lifts so he can meet my eyes, a confused look across his face. Trust me, I am a little surprised that those words came out of my mouth too. But I still want to.
“She is dead, Aubrey,” he snaps like he thinks I am not listening.
I do my best to repress my eyeroll but know that I don’t succeed.
“Yeah, I heard that part. I meant; can I go to her grave? Talk to her?”
Now he looks really confused as he looks at me carefully.
“Why?”
Now it’s my turn to shrug.
“I’d really like to meet the woman that put up with you for so many years. Maybe she can give me some tips,” I tease.
He is quiet for a few moments, and I am almost certain that he is gearing up to tell me to fuck off. Instead, Dax surprises the hell out of me by giving me a small smile and nodding his head. 20 minutes later we are standing in front of a headstone with a beautiful angel engraved into the stone.
Maria Hart
Loving Mother, Sister & Angel
April 23, 1980 – November 12, 2018
Dax moves over to stand in front of it, brushing his hand against the angel while holding his necklace with the other.
“Hey Ma,” he says softly, his voice clogged with thick emotion. “I brought someone who wants to meet you. This is my friend Aubrey.”
I smile at the introduction while I plop down, crossing my legs as I sit in the grass. I look up and smile at Dax and he returns it before squatting to sit next to me. I then turn to the head stone.
“Hello, Maria. It’s really nice to meet you. You can call me Bree.”
I look over to see Dax watching me with an intrigued expression, but still smiling. I reach out to grab his hand and squeeze it before continuing.
“I just wanted to let you know that Dax is still the pain in the ass that I am sure he was for you. But don’t worry, I am working on him.” I hear Dax chuckle at that, but I am too focused on my conversation to indulge him. “I am sure that he tells you enough, and you see it every day, but he loves you very much. I can tell that you were the best mom to him, and he could never thank you enough for that. Any kid would have been lucky to have you as their mother. Thank you for loving him so well.”
Dax slowly pulls me into his side and tucks me against him, his arm draping around me while we sit there in comfortable silence. To my surprise, I don’t try to pull away nor do I want to. Every time that I am with Dax a little bit of my resolve weakens despite how hard I try to keep it strong. We understand each other in a way that others just never would get. His darkness is the same inky black as mine. His broken jagged pieces are a mirror image of mine.
It’s Saturday night when I get a call from Kayla.
“Hey, what are you up to? Psh, what am I saying, you are probably in bed with cookie dough ice cream in your pj’s, binging Netflix.”
I look at the paused Netflix show before looking down at my pajama clad lap with a bowl of ice cream in it.
“No,” I bite out. “It’s chocolate peanut butter. Cole ate the last of my cookie dough.”
She cackles on the other end.
“You are so predictable. Well, jump in the shower and put some effort in. We are going out. Tonight.”
“Pass,” I groan.
“Sorry, honey. That wasn’t a request. I will be there in 15 minutes.”
“So, I have 30.”
“Same thing.”
She hangs up at that and I roll my eyes and toss my phone to the side before I drag my butt out of bed and get in the shower. I swear, I need to kick that girl to the curb.
45 minutes later Kayla and I are making last minute touch ups in my mirror.
“We look so hot!” She squeals.
I slipped into a slinky black dress of hers with a deep v neckline that showcases my tits nicely. The dress hugs my waist and is paired with some sparkly heels, another contribution of Kayla’s. She did my hair in bombshell curls that fall loose against my back. Thankfully with the help of concealer, my bruising is practically gone so I won’t get the open-mouthed stares that I was getting before. Though tonight I may be getting stares for another reason because even I can admit, I look fucking good. Maybe I should try putting effort in once in a while if this is the result.
When Kayla showed up earlier, she was rambling excitedly about some frat party that is going on tonight that she scored an invite to. Apparently, she was told she could bring ‘hot friends.’ What an honor to be included. I roll my eyes.
Jack asses.
Kayla loops her arm through mine as we make our way across campus. I am pretty sure she is just using me for stability while she attempts to walk in her sky-high heels. When we get to the party it is everything that I imagined a frat party on a Saturday night would be like. People are pouring out of the house and onto the lawn with red solo cups in hand. The girls have so little on that they could be mistaken for auditioning for an open spot at the playboy mansion.
When we step inside the house, the smell of stale beer, musk and sweat assaults my nose. Not the greatest but what do you expect when you cram this many people in to one small frat house that looks to be well over seventy years old.
Kayla pulls me in close, shouting over the thumping music. “I’m gonna grab us some drinks!”
I give her a thumbs up as she teeters off in her heels like a baby giraffe. I look around the room, checking out my surroundings. Nothing too exciting to report. Just a bunch of co-ed’s humping and grinding on each other while they are in various states of intoxication. My bed and ice cream were way better than this.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
AUBREY
As my eyes sweep through the party they suddenly land on two green eyes that are steadily trained on me. He is wearing a black leather jacket, white t-shirt and dark wash jeans that make him look absolutely edible. Fuck.
Dax must be able to read my mind because when I look back up, he smirks at me before sauntering over to me. I mentally prepare myself for whatever he is about to say while I remind myself to keep my guard up. No matter how smooth and sinfully sexy he is I can’t let him get to me.
Be strong, Aubrey.
“Hey Bree,” he says, his voice smooth like honey.
Ah, fuck. I struggle not to physically shiver at the way my nickname sounds on his lips. He is totally fucking getting to me and this little acquaintanceship thing that we have going on is getting increasingly dangerous. Trying to brush aside the bubbling feelings inside of me I go for an air of indifference.
“I only let people I really like call me, Bree,” I say coolly.
He smirks at me as he raises an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah? Do I not make the cut?”
“Nah. How does that feel on that inflatable sized ego?”
He barks out a laugh before shaking his head.
“Not good. I’ll wear you down,” he says with a wink.
My heart skips at that wink and my stomach drops at the determination in his words. As much as I don’t want his words to be true, I fear they may be.
“Can I get you a drink?” He asks.
I am about to bite out some clever response when I see Kayla stepping up next to me.
“Hey!” I greet her, grabbing the drink she offers me and looping my arm through hers.
This move not only helps stabilize Kayla once again but also is the perfect excuse to get a few feet of distance between me and Dax. I turn back to face him as I raise my drink.
“I’m good, thanks.”
Unfortunately, none of that discourages him. He takes a huge step towards me until I am practically plastered against him. He leans in close to whisper into my ear as he does.
“Do you want to dance?”
For a moment my mind short circuits. I am overwhelmed by the smell of mint and leather and him. Oh fuck. No. Not good. I’m not exactly sure where this sudden flirtatious side of Dax came from. Maybe it is because we kissed the other night and neither of us has recognized or talked about it since. Maybe it is because we have been spending so much time together.
Or maybe he really likes me.
No. Fuck that. There is no way in hell the playboy in him would ever let him settle down with one girl and I am not interested in being a one and done. I will not be just another woman that falls at the feet of Dax Hart. I will not be another statistic.
Steeling my resolve and thanking the big man upstairs that I was able to talk myself off of that bridge that I definitely almost jumped off of, I wipe my face clean of any and all emotion as I look at him head on.
“Nope,” I pop, before turning and grabbing Kayla’s hand as I drag her towards the dancefloor.
I start swaying to the beat, doing my best to shake off the creeping feelings that are trying to take up permanent residence in my chest. I’m also trying to ignore the hypnotic eyes that I can practically feel drilling holes into my back.
When I turn to look at Kayla, I see that her eyes are wide, and her mouth is hanging open.
“Uh, did you just blow off Dax Hart? That man is fine as hell! I would climb him like a tree in a heartbeat,” she shouts over the beat of the song.
I snort. “Yeah, you and every other girl in here it seems.” I pause for a second, trying to come up with an excuse as to why I just blew off the Adonis of campus. “He is just not my type.”
I forgot for a moment that very few know Dax and I even interact at all. Cole knows that Dax is helping me with my car, but I knew bringing the subject up with Kayla would be opening the door to endless questions that I didn’t want to answer, so I didn’t bother. The only people that know we use the same gym are the guys at the gym, so I guess our acquaintanceship has been kind of on the down low.
She laughs while swaying her hips.
“Honey, he is everyone’s type. I was at The White Oak last night and he had Charlene Johnson practically dry humping him at their table. Then they both mysteriously disappeared to the bathroom at the same time. She came out with the most satisfied smile I have ever seen. I’d kill to look like that after bathroom sex with a guy.”
My ice runs cold at her words and my smile disappears. Right after he dropped me off at my dorm from the graveyard where I held his hand as he cried over his dead mother and spoke to her for hours, he went and fucked some random bitch in the bathroom of my fucking work? I shrug at Kayla so that she doesn’t see the jealousy that is stewing inside of me.
I know that I have no right to be jealous. He is just fixing my car for me, he helped me out when I got hurt at fight night and we have talked a bit and hung out but it’s not like we are together or anything. I don’t even want that anyways. So why does hearing about him hanging out with me during the day and fucking random bitches at night feel like a knife to the gut?
Whatever, it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that whatever I thought might be going on between us has been effectively blown to smithereens. All developing feelings I was starting to have for him are gone in an instant. Great, right? I am sure as hell not going to let Dax motherfucking Hart ruin my night.
A pair of strong arms snake around my waist before hands settle on my hips. My hackles rise and I am about to tell Mr. Dude Bro where he can shove his hands, when a familiar voice whispers into my ear.
“Darlin’, I couldn’t stay away any longer. You are driving every man in here crazy.”
I turn around and smile up through my eyelashes. Cole is cute. His brown hair is perfectly quaffed, falling slightly in his eyes that only amps up his boyish charm. His dark Henley is clinging to his body, displaying his solid chest while his jeans are tight on his muscular thighs. His trademark twinkle plays in his sapphire eyes I can’t help but want to keep it there.
“Just friends, golden boy,” I remind him before I wrap my arms around his shoulders and begin swaying my body against him with the beat.
His smile grows as he tightens his grip on my hips, brining me in closer.
“For now.”
“Forever,” I say with a laugh as I shake my head and spin my hips.
We dance like that for a couple of songs laughing and smiling. His hands wander lower and lower until they finally land low, cupping my ass and tugging me in so our bodies are completely flush.
I raise a questioning eyebrow at him with an amused smirk across my face, but I don’t push him away. I know it is probably fucked up that I am letting him do this right now. I know that he has a little crush on me. He has made it pretty damn obvious. I shouldn’t be leading him on like I am, and I definitely shouldn’t be using him to forget about how Dax screwing some bitch in a bathroom fucking hurts. But despite all of that Cole seems to be enjoying himself and all I want to do is have a good night. I will set things straight with him tomorrow, tonight I need the distraction.
One of Cole’s hands squeeze my ass for a second and before I can even react, I hear a loud crash from behind us. I look over to see a broken bottle of beer on the floor as Dax stands above it, his fists clenched, jaw tight and eyes on fire directed right at Cole. Oh fuck.
I can tell just from there little interaction at The White Oak that these two don’t get along and that previous tension only seems to ratchet higher when Cole notices Dax’s glare before he pulls me into his side tighter and sends Dax a scathing look of his own.
Fuck. Really, Cole?
Within seconds Dax storms over to us, reaching down and yanking my arm to pull me from Cole’s grip. I stumble in my heels for a few steps until I steady myself in front of him, shooting him my most poisonous look as I do.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“You are,” he seethes before he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again the fire is a little more contained but still there, nonetheless.
“Can we have a minute? In private.” He spits out that last part while looking over my head at Cole. I don’t have to turn around to see his reaction, I can practically feel the anger vibrating off Cole.
Internally I groan. I seriously don’t have time for his bullshit. Fuck him.
“Nah, I’m good. Now I will ask again, what the hell is up your ass tonight, Dax?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs suddenly acting like he didn’t just storm over here and make a huge ass scene as he crosses his arms. “I just didn’t take you for the easy type. Guess I didn’t have you figured out like I thought I did. Apparently, you will turn into a whore for anyone if they give you attention for long enough.”
I wind back and throw every ounce of power I can into a right hook to his jaw. He stumbles back a few steps and the whole room becomes deathly silent with only the music in the background making any noise. I stare daggers at him, daring him to talk shit again.
Are you fucking kidding me?
I can’t believe that I ever thought there was something decent about him. That he was a good guy once you got underneath all of the bullshit. I thought…I don’t know what I fucking thought but clearly I was wrong. There is a small number of things that can actually penetrate through my armor and calling me that word is just about the worst one.
