Page 545 of Filthy Elites

“Do you live east or west?” I ask Rose.

“East. Only just, though: we have an apartment on Main Street, close to the big ice cream parlor, you know?”

So, she might not be wealthy like the rest of the school, but her parents still get by.

“Yeah, I work around there—at the florist.”

“The old one or the one that sells those pretty, almost black roses?”

I snort, imagining Ginny’s face if she heard that. “The old one. It’s a miracle it hasn’t gone out of business yet. No one in their right mind would pick Manny’s Bouquets over the Flower Pot.”

“Maybe they’re laundering money?” Bella speculates.

With her greasy salt-and-pepper hair always tied in a bun and that godawful green apron she insists on wearing, Ginny looks like a cranky old spinster. The most exciting thing that’s ever happened to her is probably the delivery guy losing his balance and touching her tits as he fell down last year.

I start to laugh, when someone pulls out the seat next to me. My entire body tenses at his approach and my chuckle dies in my throat. I know who it is before he sits. I canfeelhim.

My face heats, as unbidden memories flash before my eyes.

“Look at you, making friends,” Chase drawls, shooting me his most infuriating smirk.

Two of his friends crowd our table, Roman Stone and the aforementioned Camden Hunt. They’re standing behind Chase, ready to back him up. “Do they know you suck cocks like a porn star?”

I can feel myself turning red, shame and anger taking over.

“Do your friends know you get offforcingwomen who don’t want you?” I shoot back with a snarl.

Roman and Camden laugh like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard.

“Erica,” Roman says, his tone reasonable. “Every woman with a pulse wants Chase. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Fucking asshole.

His jet-black hair falls to his shoulders, and his face is too pretty for a guy’s—especially one as ripped as him. Tall and lean, he’s built like a runner. Objectively, he’s beautiful. It’s easy to imagine him strumming chords on a guitar, and playing wayward pussies just as well. But he repels me. Anyone this casual at the mention of violence against women should have his balls cut off.

Camden’s no better. Six foot two of gorgeous, tanned trash.

I get to my feet, take my empty tray, and make my way to drop its content in the garbage can close to the exit.

I’m not surprised Chase follows me. His friends remain behind, chatting with Rose and Bella. After the incident, I doubt they’ll want me in their club.

“So that’s your play? Screaming assault?” Chase smiles at me. “You’re not that bright, are you? I could share that delightful picture with everyone.”

“You won’t.” I sound adamant, certain of myself. I’m not, but damn if I won’t fake the hell out of it.

“Oh?”

Free of my tray, I stroll up to him and whisper, “You like my mouth too much, and you know you’ll never feel it again if you do that.” I’m close enough to feel his breath on my forehead. His nostrils flare.

“Which is why you haven’t gone to your grandfather about kicking us out either.” I grab his jacket and get on my tiptoes, tilting my head to reach his ear. My voice drops lower yet. “You. Want. Me.”

I’m flush against him and feel his cock harden on my stomach. His heart is beating so fast. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. I know he’s trying to control himself. Before he manages, I let go of the jacket, pivot, and head to the library for the rest of my lunch period.

ChapterEight

After work,I walk to the ice rink, my bag heavy on my back.

There’s a freestyle session from seven to nine three days a week. I rarely miss it, heading over here every night right after work.

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