Page 192 of Filthy Elites

His nose nudges mine to give him access to my mouth. My stomach churns, like a million beating butterfly wings. His kiss is gentle, warm, and despite every single reservation, I sink into it—into him.

We stay like this for a while, kissing, touching, dozing off into sleep. I’m not sure how much time passes before he gets out of the bed and redresses. He’s terrifyingly quiet, and the only thing he says after kissing me softly on the forehead is, “Be back at the farm before dawn,” before walking out the door.

Minutes pass and I finally get up. That’s when I see it. The Zeta Sig condom sitting on my bedside table. I stare at the shiny foil for a long moment, trying to process what it means. WhatImean.

I don’t know if there’s an answer.

TWENTY

Reagan

I don’t need to see my reflection in the shiny metal elevator doors to know I look like shit. I barely slept, tossing and turning in the unfamiliar bed, thinking about what happened between me and Miller.

What he did to me.

What I let him do.

How good it made me feel.

My entire body aches, inside and out, a reminder of how rough he’d been. How big he felt buried inside of me, the burn from the stretch. All things that should have been a violation but feel like something else entirely every time I think about it—of how Miller felt over me, inside me.

I move to push my hair aside, that habit impossible to stop. Although, for the first time, I’m glad to not have to worry about my hair or clothes. There’s no way I could have put in the effort. It’s just another way guys are lucky.

I didn’t go back to the farm like Miller told me to. I barely made it out of bed. As far as punishments go, I think I’ve taken the worst of it, and I’m willing to risk not going back. For all they know, I slept with Janelle. That should count for something, right?

The elevator doors slide open, and every nerve in my body tenses when I see my former roommate on the other side. She looks worse than I do. Pale. Red, dark-ringed eyes. I’m even surprised she made it out of bed today.

She hesitates before crossing the threshold but ultimately clutches her backpack over her shoulder and her coffee cup in one hand. I want to say something—to check on her—but the words are stuck in my throat.

The elevator doors shut, and the car moves. The bell chimes when we reach the ground floor and her finger shoots out and slams on the ‘close door’ button, trapping us inside. She turns toward me.

“I know what you did,” she says quietly. The first thing I think of is Miller and what happened last night. There’s no way she can— “The memories are vague but there… at least until we got in the car.”

Oh.

My mouth grows dry. “I didn’t—”

“I know. You helped me. You warned me and got me out of there.” She exhales. “I don’t know what the fuck you are up to Reagan, but thank you.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “How did you—”

“I knew you looked familiar in class. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. But it clicked after I kissed you.” She rolls her eyes. “You kiss like a girl.” Then her eyes drop to my crotch. “And your dick feels like a rolled-up tube sock.”

I gape for a minute, caught completely off guard, but finally say, “I saw what they were going to do with you, and I couldn’t let it happen.”

“Thank you,” she says again, the glint of a tear forming in the corner of her eye. “God, I knew frat boys were the worst. I fell for the fucking tattoos and that smug smile. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot. They’re assholes.” I touch her shoulder. “And I’m doing everything I can to take them down.”

* * *

I’m headed to class when I see him, no,them. Miller and Grayson are together in the hallway, talking. I skid to a stop and duck behind a pillar.

A bubble of mixed emotions builds in my chest. What is Miller doing on this part of campus? Why is Grayson talking to him? I analyze their expressions and bodies for any signal, but they just both burst into laughter and Grayson claps him on the back.

What the fuck?

They go in opposite directions, but I follow Grayson. Miller is the last person I want to see right now. And Grayson? Well, I need to know what he’s doing. At least that’s what I tell myself as I push through the crowded hallway and grab a handful of his shirt. He looks down.

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