Page 189 of Filthy Elites

“Other than drive me around while I convinced clerks to sell me bottles of liquor? I’m currently not their primary target.” I grab my crotch. “I’m sorely lacking a vagina.”

“Right,” he says, dark eyes sweeping over me. “If anything happens to you—”

“It’ll blow up the whole thing. I know.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.” I raise an eyebrow and he thrust both hands into his hair. “If anything happens to you, if they hurt you or… figure it out to the point that you could be in harm’s way, I wouldn’t forgive myself.” Janelle shifts in the bed behind him, and he places his hands on my shoulders, pushing me away from her bed. In a low voice, he continues. “You’re a special girl, Reagan. Beautiful and strong. The day I met you? I never want to see that much sadness on your face again.”

The words spill out in a rush and his hands move from my shoulders, cupping the back of my neck. I look into his eyes and feel a surging warmth. Of goodness and something safe. He releases a long shudder and tilts his head before brushing his lips over mine. His jaw is strong, powerful, but he isn’t forcing me. No, I’m stunned for a moment, brain ceasing to function, until the rush of want cuts through the fog. Pushing up on my toes, I kiss him back, fingers coiled in his shirt. Under my fingertips, I feel his heart race, my own pounding in my ears.

Thud thud thud

“Reag,” Grayson says, against my mouth. I bite down with my bottom lip, but he gently pushes me back, eyebrow arched. “Someone’s at the door.”

Thud thud thud

I wipe off my mouth and clear my throat. Leaning against the door, I ask, “Who is it?”

“It’s Miller. Open up.”

Fuck.

I mouth Miller’s name like Grayson didn’t hear it. He moves quickly but shows no sign of the panic surging through my veins. Miller knows I’m working to bring down Royer, but he doesn’t know who I’m working with. I point to the space under my empty lofted bed—there’s room behind Janelle’s luggage. He frowns but crawls under, cramming his too big body in the cramped space. I arrange the suitcase to block him just as Miller says, “I know you’re in there, Theo. Open the door.”

Taking a deep breath, I open the door. Miller stands in the hallway, jaw tight and gray eyes blazing. I’ve seen a lot of expressions on Miller’s face—but right now, he looks downright dangerous. My stomach flips as he pushes past me and scans the room.

“Where is he?”

He peers into the closet, pushing aside Janelle’s clothes, then ducks in the bathroom, checking the shower and behind the door.

I step between him, and Grayson’s hiding place. “Who are you looking for?”

He looks down at me, eyes narrowed. “The guy you left with.”

“There’s no one here but one very unconscious girl that got drugged at your frat party.”

“What’s wrong with your face?” he asks, eyes narrowed.

I force myself not to react, not to touch my lips or do anything. “I had to get her up here,” I reply. “Alone.”

He finally looks over at Janelle. “You brought her home.”

“Instead of violating her like Rat wanted or leaving her to get violated by someone else. Yeah, I brought her home. Do you have a problem with that?”

He snaps his attention back to me. “I have a problem with you leaving the party with someone—” I press my fingers to his lips and shoot him a glare. He bats my hand away and adds, “withoutpermission.”

Grayson still doesn’t know that Miller is aware I’m a girl, but if he doesn’t shut his mouth, he’s going to blow everything up. I have no idea what his problem is or why he even cares, but Janelle shifts in the bed, and everything will go to hell if she wakes up.

“Come on,” I say softly, grabbing him by the arm and pushing him toward the door. I take one last look at Grayson, who I can make out under the bed, forehead creased, and go into the hall.

“Who—” he starts, but I keep going, walking down to the elevator. It opens automatically and I step on, pressing the button for my floor. Right before the doors close, I see Grayson slip out of my room and head toward the stairs. I exhale. Miller asks, “Where are we going?”

“To my room. Where you can berate me in private and not wake up Janelle.”

He snorts. “Kitten, she’s not waking up any time soon, not if Rat had anything to do with it.”

It takes everything in me not to slap him across his pretty, smug face.

He follows me down the hall and I pull out my ID and swipe it on the door lock. It clicks open. Once we’re inside, he looks around at my bare, gender-neutral room. I’ve only slept in it a few times before being sent to the barn. Before he can start again, I say, “The guy was just someone in Janelle’s phone. I called the last person she texted.”