Page 193 of Filthy Elites

“I need to talk to you,” I say quietly. “Now.”

I walk past him and go straight to the storage closet we’ve met in before. This time it smells like floor cleaner—the odor wafting up from a bucket in the corner. The door behind me opens, and he slips in.

“Hey,” he says, eyes skimming from my head to my toes. “How are you? I never heard back from you last night. I was freaking out—”

“What the hell are you doing?” I snap. “Why are you talking to Miller?”

“I was looking for you, you know, since I hadn’t heard from you last since last night, and he was there. I couldn’t just ignore him.”

“Why not?”

“We’re fraternity brothers, Reagan. Just because I’ve graduated, and on the council, doesn’t mean I don’t know current members. Especially the ones that pledged when I was still active.”

Shit. I never thought about it. How close are they? God, what if Miller bragged about what happened last night? Or gloated or mocked me in some way. What if he told him—

“Hey,” he touches my chin. “You don’t have to worry about me talking to Miller. These guys know I work for the Council. They don’t trust me at all.”

“Right.” I give him a tight smile. “Of course.”

His hand is still on my face, fingers splayed under my chin. His warm brown eyes hold mine, like he wants me to read the truth in them. I can’t do the same.

I look away, and his fingers drop. He asks again, “So what happened last night?”

“Nothing.”Everything.“I needed to get him away from Janelle—and you. We just went upstairs to my room. Hung out for a while.”

He nods. “He wasn’t suspicious?”

My pulse races as the lies mount. “Nah, at first he thought I bailed from the party and came to drag me back. Then he thought I was hooking up with Janelle, but I told him she was too drunk. He wasn’t happy I didn’t go for it, but he let it go.” Lies upon lies. I move away from him and reach for the doorknob.

“Wait,” he says, hand flattening on the door, keeping it shut. “Are we okay? After what happened last night?”

So much happened last night, but I know what he means. The kiss.

“We’re good. I know things were just heightened emotionally and I don’t hold you to it.”

“Hold me to it?” He dips his head so we’re eye to eye. “You know I’ve wanted to do that since we met, right?”

“Grayson,” I say, resting my hand on his chest. “You’re a great guy, but I’m a fucking mess right now.”

His hand snakes around my waist. “A sexy mess.” He bends, kissing the column of my neck. His stubble rubs against my skin, and it shouldn’t feel good, but it does. Deliciously so. As much as I hate it, I pull away and push him back.

He slumps against the door. “Did you mean what you said?”

I pause. “Mean what?”

“That you can’t trust any of us?”

I look at this man in his glasses and slightly too large sweater. His chin is covered in half-day-old stubble and his hair unintentionally messy. He’s cute in his own way, but it’s hard to think he’s a devilish-mastermind like Royer or a sadistic asshole like Miller. But do I trust him?

“I want to.” It’s the most I can manage.

“I understand.” His hand lands on my shoulder. “You’re a special girl, Reagan. Stronger than anyone thought—definitely stronger than I thought. I know there are pledges that have dropped out this week. You made it to the end of the gauntlet and, honestly, it’s something to be proud of. The next few days will be intense as you go into the final tests. Be careful, okay?” His fingers stroke the back of my neck. “Wear the camera. I can’t help you if you take it off.”

I nod, hyperaware of his touch and trying desperately not to sink into it. I lied when I said I didn’t trust Grayson. I do trust him, more than I should, but what we’re doing is bigger than the both of us. We’re going after an institution. I not only promised myself that I’d take them down, now I promised Janelle too, and I plan on keeping it.

TWENTY-ONE

Miller

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