Page 8 of Filthy Elites

“Did you kick his ass?” the dark-haired guy in the group asks.

“No, Cameron. I didn’t kick his ass. My methods are more subtle than brute force. Take note.”

“Whatever,” he mumbles.

The trio makes a motion to leave, but Jason steps next to Finn and gives him a side hug.

“Congrats, cuz.”

A-ha.That’s why he looked familiar. Now that Jason is standing next to him, I can see the resemblance.

“Thanks. I didn’t know you went to the meet.”

“Of course, I did. I knew Uncle Dearest wouldn’t be there, and your mom… well, you never know with her.”

Finn turns his blue eyes in my direction, and a blush creeps up his cheeks. It seems Jason doesn’t know how to keepanyone’ssecrets, not even his family’s.

Finn looks away. “Right. I’d better go.”

Hoping that Jason is still distracted by his cousin, I slink away from him, following the flow of the line. I grab a tray and slide it along the counter as I check the food offerings. Wishful thinking that I’d be able to escape him so easily.

He falls into step with me. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“No, but it got my attention.”

He leans closer, brushing his arm with mine. “What didn’t you like about it?” His voice is low and seductive, as if he’s trying to tease me.

Goose bumps spread where he touched me, despite the barrier of clothes. My body is reacting to his proximity in ways I can’t control, and I hate it.

“Your attitude, maybe?”

He laughs. “Oh, so you support grooming then?”

I frown. “Justice was just chatting with Sage.”

“Right, like I just want to chat with you.”

My heart skips a beat and I falter in my step. “Is that what you’re hoping to achieve?”

He tilts his head, smiling that crooked smile of his while his eyes dance with mischief. “You have to be more specific, darling.”

I clench my jaw hard. “You’d better forget it. I’m not going to fuck you.”

His smile doesn’t wilt. In fact, I think he’s trying hard to not let it become broader. “We’ll see. But anyway, I didn’t come to the cafeteria to run interference in my cousin and his friends’ business.”

“Do I dare ask why you’re here, then?” I put random food on my tray, knowing I won’t feel like eating anything.

“It’s a surprise.” He takes the tray from me and sets it back on the counter. “Come.”

Grabbing my hand, he drags me away from the line. “What the hell. What about my food?”

“You’re weird, but no one in their right mind eats tofu gumbo.”

Good grief. Was that what I picked?

Why are you surprised, Isabelle, when his nearness is giving you all sorts of crazy reactions?

I try to ignore how his possessive hand clasping mine is making me warm and cold at the same time. I know he’s trouble, but I want to ignore the signs.

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