Page 538 of Filthy Elites

"We weren't twelve when I had my hand down your pants."

I sigh. "No, we were fifteen. And curious, which is natural. That curiosity proved to me that I have no interest in you." At the time, I’d believed I wasn't into sex as a whole. But it hadn't quite computed because Ihadgotten tingly and interested in other guys, yet Vince’s awkward fumbling had done nothing for me.

Idon'tget why he can't get it through his thick skull. We have zero chemistry, at least on my end. It's not like I strung him along, dropping my pants at the first opportunity. After that incident three years ago, I removed his hands from my pussy, laughed, and told him it wasn't working. I haven't initiated—or accepted—anything more than friendship after that.

"You're not giving us a chance."

Urgh!"There's no ‘us,’ Vincent." I pushpast him and walk inside the house, leaving the door wide open. "Please go."

I'm physically and emotionally drained because I’ve had this discussion so many times. And because I expected not to have to go through it again after moving.

Fucking Pauline. How did she even know where I live now? Lola, her cousin, might have let it slip. I make a mental note to tell her to keep it to herself in the future.

I've only taken a couple of steps when he grabs my wrist and pulls me in, then to my horror, he lowers his face to mine and kisses me.

Fucking kisses me.

I draw my knee back, intending to hit his fucking junk as hard as I can, but I don't get the chance.

Before I can move, Vince is thrown away from me in a blur of blue and black. Then he's on the floor, and Chase Archer looms over him in his letterman jacket. He kneels on top of Vince and punches his face. Again and again. After the third hit, Vince's nose is bleeding, but Chase doesn't stop.

I'm too stunned to move. And once I regain my composure, I don’t tell him to stop because I’m enjoying the show. Chase is relentless, each punch harder than the last. Vince screams like the little bitch he is.

Finally, regretfully, I tell Chase, "You're probably going to kill him if you continue." He keeps punching. I don't think he even hears me.

I suppose he’s enjoying himself, too.

I do what I do best. I talk shit. "I mean, I guess I could give you an alibi, but we'd have to get all the blood out of the rug and that would seriously suck."

Chase glances over his shoulder at me. He's frowning, as though he doesn't understand what I'm saying, or maybe what he's doing here, punching a guy for forcing his attention on a girl he loathes.

I smile at him, knowing this is my chance to distract him. "Who would have thought you had a white knight in you?"

His confusion disappears, morphing into his usual snarl.

That's better. He's focused on me now.

I saunter over to Vince, examining Chase's handiwork. Under all the blood, I can see his nose must be broken. Good.

"You might have been my friend once, but after last year? You're nothing to me. Actually, given what you just did, you're less than nothing." I kick his flank. Not very hard. The dude's already broken. "Never show your face in my house again, understood? Oh, and if you report Chase for battery? I'll tell the police the truth. You. Assaulted. Me."

That might be a bit of a stretch, but I'm happy to sing this song loud and clear.

Chase might be a dickhead, but today, he protected me. I’m a simple gal. That’s enough for me to be on his side.

Just for today.

ChapterFour

I tiltmy chin towards Chase's hands. "Let's clean that up."

I doubt he wants to go back home with blood all over his hands. From what I've seen of Lisa Archer, she's a warm, caring wife and attentive mother. She'd be highly distressed if she saw herbaby boywith a boo-boo.

He hesitates, and I go to the closest bathroom, ignoring him. He'll either be here or gone when I come back.

We have plenty of first aid kits stashed all over the place, given my favorite hobby. I often come home with scratches, bruises, and the occasional busted lip.

I'm surprised to find Chase still in the hallway, glaring at everything in the vicinity.

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