Page 77 of Filthy Elites

ME: I’ll be there in ten.

Most likely twenty, but he’s already pissed. If I give him an accurate estimate, he’ll leave. I jump from the bed and knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey, babe. Are you done?”

“Almost.”

I push the door open just as she’s turning the shower off.

“Wear comfortable clothes, preferably sweats or workout stuff.”

She’s frowning when she steps out of the stall. “Why? I thought we were going out for breakfast.”

“Change of plans. I forgot I had made other arrangements for us.”

She raises on eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me what they are?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

I head for the shower and turn it back on. It feels good to be under the hot jets. Closing my eyes, I throw my head back and let the water hit my face. After a while, I have the sense I’m being spied on.

I turn and find Isabelle staring at me. A smile tugs the corners of my mouth. “Babe? You’re supposed to be getting ready, remember?”

She blinks fast as if trying to snap out of a daze. “Then stop distracting me.”

I laugh. “That’s impossible.”

She sticks her tongue out and then strides out of the bathroom. A minute later, I return to her room, wrapped in a towel. She’s already dressed—thank fuck. I’d probably wanna go for a quickie otherwise. Guilt immediately spreads through my chest. How can I think about sex after what she told me?

Damn. I’ve never experienced this constant need to be with someone. Isabelle has put my libido into overdrive.

It just occurs to me I have nothing to wear save for yesterday’s clothes, and we don’t have time to stop by my room to change. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not the one who’ll be doing the training today.

In the hallway, Isabelle gives a quizzical look. “You aren’t changing?”

“Nope. It’s fine.”

“Jason, what are you up to?”

I throw my arm over her shoulder. “It’s nothing bad. I promise. Do you trust me?”

“Uh….”

“Ouch. Good grief, woman. Don’t you know trust is the foundation of successful relationships?”

“Yeah, but it needs to be earned, and right now, you’re acting pretty sus.”

I can’t argue with her there, but I don’t want to disclose what we’re doing beforehand. I’m not sure how she’s going to react. The school allows athletes to use their facilities for training during the weekend, so we don’t have to break in again.

On the way to the gym, I stop by a vending machine and grab us a couple of granola bars.

“Breakfast of champions,” I tell her through a grin.

She scowls at the snack. “At least it’s healthy. But I’d love some coffee too.”

“I promise we’ll go out for brunch, and you can have all the caffeine in the world.”

We find a few people working out in the gym, but we’re not here for the weightlifting machines. I keep going until I reach one of the rooms. I hear grunts coming from inside, so that means Reid didn’t bail.

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