Her Spite: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (The Forgotten Elites Book 2) by Eden Beck (best adventure books to read .TXT) 📗

Unless maybe it is.

That brings me right back around to wondering where he goes and what Warren does when he skipped out on his shifts last term.

“Then again,” I say to the boys, noticing Warren look up at me in surprise. “I’ll consider it … but not until you tell me why Warren wants out of the volunteering.”

They exchange a glance that confirms my suspicions. Something is definitely up.

“Forget it,” Warren says, head ducking back down as he reaches for his fork like it’s some kind of weapon instead of an eating utensil. He looks down at his plate and stabs a forkful of food before shoving it into his mouth.

“Alright, well if that’s all you wanted me to come over here for,” I say as I start to get up from the table.

“What actually happened with that advisor?” Warren asks without even looking up from his food. “The one from last term. You haven’t been the same since. Did he rape you?”

The question is so blunt and bold, and Warren says it with such a lack of restraint, that I’m a bit taken aback by it.

More than a little.

I’m honestly downright shocked by the bluntness of it and the fact that he’s asking the question directly to me. I have to sit back down to answer him. Not that I feel the need to explain myself to anyone anymore, but simply because he seems to be earnestly asking me what happened, and I realize that no one has ever actually come out and asked me directly without accusing me of being the problem first.

Not even Alaska or Clark, and they’re supposed to be my real friends.

It’s surprisingly nice having someone asking me about it to my face, even if it is Warren posing the question.

“No, he didn’t,” I tell him honestly. “But I’m sure it wasn’t far from his mind. I didn’t do anything to lead him on either, like not even one little bit. I still see that bastard’s face in the dark sometimes.”

It’s like a small weight lifts off of me at the words.

All Mr. Peters ever did was kiss me, but it felt like far more than that. I felt vulnerable, exposed.

It’s hard to believe it happened only weeks ago, but it feels both so buried that it was a lifetime ago, and at the same time so raw … it could have happened just yesterday.

It’s my turn to find myself staring intently down at the tray in front of me.

I really didn’t mean to be so vulnerable and open with them. Not like this. Not now.

Chase and Sterling both stare at me in stunned silence. I don’t think they expected to hear me be quite so honest with them. I also don’t think they expected to give a shit about it. Which—from the looks on their faces—they do.

And that is the greatest surprise of all.

Warren is quiet. But he’s gripping the fork in his hand so tightly that it actually snaps.

I look at him and am completely confused at his reaction.

“Cheap cutlery,” he says, “only thing it’d be good for is stabbing that motherfucker in the eye if he ever has the misfortune to run into me.”

For a moment, Chase and Sterling look back and forth between Warren and me. And for a moment, it almost seems as if the thought of someone hurting me, made Warren angry enough to break something.

Chapter Seven

I’ve already started getting used to seeing Warren nearly every day that we volunteer together, though used to it isn’t a term Warren seems familiar with. After my ‘date’ with Sterling, I seem to be running into him on campus more frequently now too. But I don’t think anything of it until Chase starts actually running into me on my way to classes for more than a couple of days in a row.

That I take note of.

I already knew Chase was athletic—at least he was before he came here to Ridgecrest. I’ve even seen him working out on campus every now and then, but up until recently I never really paid much attention. It was always best not to pay him, Sterling, or Warren much attention. Not unless I wanted to run into trouble, anyway.

But now, it’s like I can’t avoid spotting him. Sometimes he’s doing calisthenics, other times he’s jogging, though his new favorite challenge seems to be chasing me all over the campus grounds.

He says that he’s just ‘running into’ me on my way to classes, but when I change up my route to class just to see if that’s the case; he shows up on my new path too.

He might be literally running, but he’s definitely not just bumping into me on accident. Even as the days pass and it gets late into fall and almost wintertime, with the weather turning cold and snowy—he still finds a way to run into me almost every day.

At first it was kind of annoying, but the more it continues, the more I find myself actually enjoying getting the chance to see him … despite my better judgement. I should be focusing on getting closer to Bridget’s friends to try to get an invitation to this gala of theirs so I can get the hell out of here, but it’s proven harder than I thought.

“Come on,” he says as he jogs alongside me on my way to class one morning, his breath fogging up like smoke in front of his face. I’m reminded, ever so briefly, of my volunteer assignment with Sterling last semester.

I feel the slightest stab inside me, but it takes me a moment to realize what it is. Do I actually miss volunteering alongside him?

Instead of considering what that might mean, I just pick up my pace. It’s cold outside and I’m trying to walk briskly so that I have enough time to grab a coffee from the bookstore before I have to head