Page 784 of Filthy Elites

Declan rolls his eyes. “You’re so fucking unreal. I’m here to try to help you, to tell you that I’ll find a way for the detective on the case to contact you and get your eyewitness account of your attack, but all you want to do is attack me?”

“What about that guy in his sixties?” I blurt out.

“So you’re sexist and ageist,” he says. “Good to know.”

“I’m not… You’re the one who is sexist! Not me! And I’m just worried about him. He breathes like a smoker.”

"He used to be a smoker. Two packs a day. He's trying to get healthy because the doctors have told him that chances are, he has cancer, and he wants to be in the best shape of his life as quickly as possible to try to say fuck you, cancer. Maybe you shouldn't judge a person before you get to know their story."

“Fuck you and your judging eyes, Declan King! Because you judged me from the moment you saw me. Admit it!”

He grimaces. “Maybe I did. I’m not perfect, Brooke. I never claimed to be. I just am trying to juggle a lot of balls—”

I can’t help it. It’s one way to break the mounting tension between us, and I smirk and even snicker a bit.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. College, the internship, Sensei wanting me to become a densei when I've been telling him all along that I don't want to become a sensei. I don't mind teaching. I really don't. I prefer those who are purple belts and above. I'll admit it. It's more fun to teach students who already know what they're doing."

“The basics are important.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Says the girl who wants to try and do black belt stuff already when she hasn’t even been training for two weeks yet.”

"Yes, well, maybe I can start to see that appeal to knowing the basics, but were you really happy to just learn how to kick and punch in the beginning?"

“Yes,” he says seriously.

“What? Were you five?”

“Four actually, almost five.”

“You’ve been training for that many years?”

“Yes. I had to step away for some time here and there for various reasons, or else I would be working on my fourth degree or even my fifth, but there’s no limit to what you can learn as far as karate.”

“And the internship with your father? Why bother? I mean…” I wince and shake my head. “You’re a business major.”

"I don't know for sure what I want to do, but the internship is paid, and they really do need the help, so why not? Maybe I'll fall in love with it. Maybe I will be a cop like he is, or maybe I'll be a businessman like my mom."

“Your mom is in business? What kind?”

"Tech." He rubs the back of his neck. "It would help the force a lot if my dad wouldn't take so much time off, but I swear, every month, my parents are flying off to this country, to that country, and sometimes, they'll go for two weeks, three weeks. It's insane. And every time they went, they never brought me along. Instead, they would give me a boatload of cash as if that made up for it. It was one of my nannies who enrolled me in karate because I was so bored at home all the time without my parents. It didn't help that I didn't go to grade school because they had me learn from tutors instead."

“What about high school?” I murmur, a bit shocked that he’s divulging all of this.

And even more shocked to realize that I care.

“I went to a majorly elite high school,” he admits, “the kind that has a ton of kids moving onto Ivy Leagues. Some might call me pretentious, and maybe that’s not entirely wrong.”

“You aren’t perfect.”

“Neither are you,” he counters, but there’s nothing malicious as he says it.

I slowly nod and almost want to apologize to him, but why? Was I in the wrong? Are we crossing some kind of hurdle? I don’t know what to think, and I’m a bit confused, and judging from the look on his handsome features, he’s confused too.

He runs a hand through his hair, and for once, the dark curly locks are a bit unruly and messy. Perfect. I like when he looks like this. It’s hot.

Fuck me.

I need to get laid.

---