Page 578 of Filthy Elites

"And I'm not your—"

"Agree to disagree." I wrap my arms around her shoulders, keeping her close. "I have to go get ready. Meet me in the house in fifteen? The staff always makes a full breakfast."

"Pass." That's basically her favorite word. At least when she's around me.

I kiss the top of her head. "Meet me in the house in fifteen, and I'll leave you alone at school all day."

She mutters against my chest.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that." If she's this petulant and frustrated, it must have been an agreement, but I want to hear it out loud.

"Fine," she grumbles. "I'll be there."

I kiss the top of her head. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it, baby doll?"

"I thought we were done with the baby doll bullshit."

I make a mental note: my Erica isn't a morning person. At least, not before coffee. Her attitude tends to improve after our Starbucks pitstop.

"Do you prefer girlfriend, then?"

I can't see her face clearly from this angle, but I know she rolls her eyes.

"Come on." I slap her ass. "We haven't got all day."

* * *

Breakfast with Erica is strange,because it feels so damn natural.

My parents' staff hover, cleaning up and preparing lunch, so Erica's on her best behavior. She's well versed on the simple rule wealthy families adhere to: we keep our shit private, away from the servants' eyes and ears.

I make sure she's served a caramel latte, though according to fucking Tom, she should want an iced one right now.

Mom comes down while we're polishing off our pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

"Erica!" She kisses both of her cheeks and holds on to her like they're long-lost friends. "So glad to see you."

"What am I, chopped liver?" I tease. I'm glad they get along. It'll make my life much easier in the long run.

"Oh, my son. Such an attention hog." She walks to me and touches my shoulder. "You'll convince Erica to come for lunch tomorrow, yes? Audrey tells me she failed, and I've ordered far too much food if it's just the four of us."

So, that's what her mother mentioned last night: Thanksgiving at my place. I'm not surprised Erica declined the invitation. I'm well aware that her favorite thing is to say no to anything that could possibly be interpreted as deviant.Dinner with our parents qualifies.

I wonder if her mother attempted to have the conversation I had with mine last Sunday. I can guess Erica did the smart thing and ran out of the house screaming before Audrey could talk about her sex life.

“She’ll come,” I assure my mother, staring at Erica, daring her to contradict me.

She glares, but keeps her mouth shut. For now. I’m sure she’ll have plenty to say to me once we're out of my mother's earshot.

"Excellent. I have to get ready for work. Have a good day, darlings."

"We should head out, too. You're done?" I ask Erica.

She stuffs the last bit of pancake on her plate in her mouth and nods. I make another mental note: she liked everything on her plate this morning.

We've just crossed the threshold when Erica snaps at me. "You don't speak for me, Archer. Not now, not ever."

I expected that, and it steels my resolves. If I want to claim her, I’m going to have to force her into letting me in. It’s harder now that I know she doesn’t deserve my wrath, but it won’t stop me. She’s mine. Nothing else matters.

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