Page 518 of Filthy Elites

“Where’s your friend?”

Gasping, I turn toward the sound and find Sebastian standing placidly at my side, his hands in his pockets.

“She’s dancing,” I tell him.

“I meant your male friend.” His face the picture of unassuming placidity.

“Oh.” Sudden panic floods me, but why am I worried he might have seen me dancing with another guy, I’m not his and he is most definitely not mine. “I needed another drink.” I lift my glass and he smiles.

“I see, he didn’t really strike me as your type.”

“My type? What would that be exactly?”

“Someone who provokes a reaction a little stronger than confusion and discomfort from you,” he replies, leaning in so I can hear him over the volume of the music and the roar of the party going on around us.

“Maybe I’m just not used to dancing with strangers at parties, I’m not exactly a social butterfly.”

“Hmm, maybe. Or maybe he just didn’t do anything for you.”

I nod noncommittally. “You’re right, redheads aren’t what I’m craving, I’ll try a brunette next time.”

His laugh sounds menacing even through the volume of the music and the sounds of the party going on around us.

“By all means, don’t let me stop you.” Lifting his arm, he gestures to the mass of dancers.

I don’t want to go back out there, dancing with Sammy was fun, but allowing guys to touch me feels… wrong. I’ve avoided all human contact for so long and now that there’s no little voice warning me he’ll find out, I can’t stand the thought of anyone’s hands on me but his. But I don’t want him to think I’m stopping myself because of him, so I lift my glass into the air and offer him a silent toast, forging forward into the crowd until I find Sammy. She and her friend have come up for air, now he’s curled around her back, grinding to the dirty bass line while he nibbles on her neck.

“Starling, where did you go?” she asks, her voice a little slurred.

“To get a drink, you were busy or else I’d have gotten you one.”

Smiling drunkenly, she waves me off. “It’s fine, Rob.” She stops, and glances over her shoulder to the guy who’s dry humping her butt. “Rob?”

“Ross,” he smiles.

Laughing, she turns back to me. “Ross is going to get us drinks.”

When Ross detaches himself from her, she throws her arms around my neck and hugs me tightly. When she leans back, she leaves one arm curled around me and starts to grind with me in the way that girls do when they want guys to look at them.

Not wanting to push her away I go with it, but having her hands on me feels almost as weird as the redheaded guy’s hands did. I’m relieved when Ross gets back and she enthusiastically launches herself at him, locking her lips with his and kissing him passionately.

My body sparks to life a moment before a familiar arm encircles my waist. “She’s an affectionate drunk, isn’t she?” Sebastian asks.

“She’s definitely friendly,” I say, holding myself stiffly against his hold, not wanting to give in to my craving and relax into his touch.

“I’d like us to be friends,” he breathes against my ear.

My feet stop moving and I freeze to the spot. His arm falls away and I slowly spin around, narrowing my eyes the moment I’m standing in front of him. “What did you say?”

“I’d like us to be friends.” The small shrug he offers me is the thing that pushes me over the edge and before I can even think about what I’m doing, my hand is in the air and slapping against his cheek.

His eyes widen in shock and I swear there’s an audible gasp from the people around us, but I don’t stick around long enough to see how they react. Pushing my way through the crowd, I text Sammy as I go to let her know I’m leaving and ask her to text me when she gets home.

“Asshole,” I mutter, my gaze focused on the ground, trying to watch where I’m going and not trip over a tree root. “Friends, fucking friends.”

I’m so focused on not falling and angrily ranting about Sebastian that I don’t notice someone’s following me until I’m plucked off the ground, dragged off the path and pressed back against a tree.

“Calm down, Starling, it’s only me,” Sebastian says as I’m parting my lips to scream. The sound dies in my throat and the fear that has turned my blood cold all morphs into unrestrained anger.

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