Page 567 of Filthy Elites

“Leave me alone, Chase.” I don’t even know why I bother. Of course, he’ll ignore me.

“It’s seven in the morning, there’s practically no one on the street. Someone could snatch you up.”

Has he lost his mind? “We’re on the riverside,” I remind him. “It’s perfectly safe. And you haven’t cared for the last three months, why start now?”

He shrugs. “It’s darker than it was at the end of the summer. Come on, just hop in. We’ll be at school much faster that way.”

I grunt, but I do open the passenger door and slide onto the seat, mostly because it’s raining. And if I have to suffer his presence either way, I might as well be comfortable.

“So youcanbe reasonable.” He feigns surprise.

That’s rich, coming from him.He wouldn’t know reason if it punched him in the nuts.

We’re driving past a mostly empty Main Street when he slows. “You want coffee? We’re pretty early.”

I’m entirely confused, failing to understand his motive. There’s no insult, no threat so far. “What do you want?”

Chase shrugs, like the situation is entirely normal. “Right now, an espresso.” He gets out of the car.

I suppose I’ll have to wait for the other shoe to drop when he feels like ending this specific game. Before I’ve managed to convince myself to leave the warmth of the Jeep, my door opens.

I look from the door to Chase and grimace. “Seriously? You open car doors now?”

That doesn’t make a lick of sense.

“I’m a gentleman.”

My snort turns into a laugh. He’s fucking kidding, right? “Whatever this is, I’m not falling for it.”

Because I love coffee, I still get out and head into Starbucks. I rarely have time to stop on my way to school.

“Good morning.” The barista—Tom, according to his nametag—is entirely too cheerful for this time of day. “What can I get you?”

“A caramel latte, please. Double shot.”

“Name?”

“Erica.”

“And an espresso,” Chase says.

I grimace. “I’m not buying you a coffee.”

“Of course not. I’m paying for yours.”

In what sort of alternative reality have I just landed? “I don’t think so.”

“I’m good for it.” He smirks. “Promise.”

I roll my eyes, and focus on Tom. “I’ll pay for mine separately, please.”

“Ring it up with mine and there’s ten bucks as a tip for you, pal,” Chase tells him.

I gape, surprised at this ridiculous pissing contest. But I’m not about to let poor Tom pass up an extra ten bucks, so I just let Chase pay for my coffee.

I sip it in the car while we get to the school. We get in so early the parking lot isn’t even half full.

“I think we can leave ten to fifteen minutes later tomorrow. We’ll still have time for coffee.”

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