Her Spite: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (The Forgotten Elites Book 2)

by Eden Beck

  But sure enough, when I get closer to where the figure is standing, it’s not some kind of mirage.

  It is Chase.

  “Hey Aubrey,” he says with what’s supposed to be a nonchalant smile, but the way his teeth are chattering, there’s nothing nonchalant about it.

  He looks absolutely freezing. His lips are blue, and his face looks like it’s chapped by the wind.

  I glance to either side, as if expecting someone else to jump out from behind the trees as some kind of joke … but I can barely see more than ten feet in any direction, the snow is falling so hard.

  My toes curl in freezing protest inside my shoes. No one in their right mind would just stand around outside in this weather, not for a moment longer than they had to.

  Which begs the question, of course, what is Chase doing so casually leaning up against a tree in the middle of a snow flurry like he has nothing better to do in the world.

  There’s no time for being coy.

  “Chase … What are you doing out here?”

  “Oh, I’m just getting some exercise in,” he says, but there’s no hiding the nervous edge to his voice.

  “Bullshit,” I say, staring at him until he’s forced to look away.

  The temperature is in the single digits and he should be well on his way home by now, not lingering here on campus. Then I spot the bag that he had kicked behind the tree and see that it’s his backpack.

  “I don’t believe you,” I say matter-of-factly. “It would be crazy to be out here exercising in the freezing snow. Besides, I saw you heading home this morning.”

  I cringe a little inside at the admission, and then quickly add. “Or, I mean, I saw you headed out to the cars.”

  “Yeah, well I—”

  I cut him right off before he can think to wonder why I was watching him out of the window.

  “Plus,” I say, “I can see your backpack behind the tree. What’s going on? Why are you standing out here in the cold with your bag?”

  He sighs and shivers and acts like he’s trying to think of some other believable excuse to concoct.

  “Chase,” I say again, a warning in my tone.

  “Fine,” he says in defeat. “I only just realized that no one was coming to get me for break. And I didn’t bring a key to the dorms with me because I thought that I wouldn’t need it. My entire dorm building is locked up because everyone else went home for the break.”

  I stare at him for a long moment as I put two and two together.

  “So, you’re just standing out here freezing to death?” I ask. “The bookstore is open and there’s hot coffee to drink. You should have gone in there, maybe someone could have helped you.”

  “Nah, I don’t want to look like a charity case,” he says. “Besides, there’s only a skeleton crew of staff left on campus. I doubt they’ll have a key to my dorms.”

  I want to call bullshit on that too, but from the looks of him right now … I don’t want to argue with him. He might try disappearing into the woods entirely, and I’d rather not add the trauma of discovering his frozen and lifeless body somewhere on the path in a couple days just because he ‘doesn’t want to look like a charity case.’

  “Well, you can’t just stand out here all night,” I say, shrugging my shoulders up higher against the cold. “You’ll freeze to death.”

  Chase just stares ahead with a pitiful look on his face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this vulnerable before. I know, just like with Sterling in the weeks before, there’s something he’s not telling me.

  I can’t just let him freeze to death out here, so I decide to do something that I very well may end up regretting.

  “Why don’t you come back to the girls’ dorm with me?”

  “Really?” he says, his face suddenly lighting up. “You’d let me stay with you over the break?”

  “That isn’t what I said,” I say, “but I can’t exactly leave you out here now, can I? Your lips are turning blue. You’ll be frozen solid by morning.”

  “I mean, technically you could just pretend you never saw me I suppose,” he says.

  I roll my eyes at him.

  “I’m not going to leave you out here, Chase,” I say as I reach behind the tree to pick up his backpack. “Come on, before I realize what a terrible idea this is and change my mind.”

  There’s no one in my dorm building either since all the girls went home for Thanksgiving, but there is a resident advisor that’ll be making rounds a couple times a day, if the last break I spent here alone is any indicator. So, until Chase is willing to admit to someone that he needs to get back into his dorm—and for whatever reason, I think he’d rather actually freeze to death than do that—he’s going to have to stay in my room.

  I’m less worried about him getting in trouble than I’m worried about me getting in trouble. The whole ordeal with Mr. Peters might have been swept under the rug, but I know better. I’m sure even the faintest whisper of trouble from me in regards to unsuitable people in my dorm will get me kicked out, and this time, I’d have nowhere left to go.

  But, neither it seems, does Chase.

  And he’s the one whose teeth are still chattering long after the door has clicked shut behind us.

  I’ve barely had time to take off my coat when I look over and see that Chase’s fingers and toes are blue—like actually blue.

  “Oh my god,” I say, my voice catching in my throat for a second. “How long were you standing out there before I came by?”

  “Since about nine this morning,” he answers, matter-of-factly.

  I look at the clock and see that it’s almost seven at night. I can’t believe that he had been standing out there all day. He must have tried to get back in his dorm just after I made my way back to the bookstore, at least that explains why I hadn’t noticed him on my walk over.

  Boys and their pride.

  I take one more look at his toes. If the snow wasn’t falling so thick outside, I’d carry him to the nurse myself, but as it is, there’s only one thing left to do.

  “Come sit under the blankets,” I say as I grab the extra blankets from Bridget’s bed and add them to mine.

  I also grab a pair of thick fuzzy socks from my dresser and hand them to him. He opens his mouth to protest, but then immediately clamps it shut when I give him the look.

  “Strip,” I order him, motioning to the rest of his damp clothes.

  “But I—”

  “Fine, then, I’ll do it myself.”

  His hands fumble uselessly as I peel layer after layer off of him. I make no comment about just how many sweaters he was wearing.

  Too many sweaters for someone who only just figured out they weren’t going home for break, but that is a conversation for another time.

  Right now, Chase stands before me still shivering and now wearing nothing but his boxer briefs and still holding my pink fuzzy socks in his hands.

  One more look from me and he dutifully pulls them on, wincing slightly before falling back onto my bed with a groan. I crawl onto the bed next to him pulling the covers over us both and put my feet against his to help him get warm. My bed rests up against the wall, so we both sit side-by-side with our backs leaning against the wall and our feet pressed together. I’m seriously worried about the fact that he got chilled to the bone and try to focus my efforts on getting him warm and cozy once again.

  “So, what happened?” I ask after sitting quietly together for a while. “Did your parents forget about you?”

  I didn’t mean for that question to come out quite so bluntly, but I am curious. It doesn’t seem like something that these wealthy, reputation-obsessed parents would do. With the exception of maybe my own parents—they’d probably love it if I froze to death so that they’d never have to deal with me again.

  His family could have at least had the decency to send a car—and if they didn’t, then I have no doubt in my mind that Warren or Sterling would have taken him home over break. If he’d bothered to tell them, of c
ourse.

  “Nah, they didn’t forget about me,” he answers. There’s still something sad in his voice though. “They’re just going through some hard times at the moment.”

  “Like a divorce or something?” I ask, still pressing for information.

  It’s strange though, because I don’t really feel like I’m pressing for information to use against him anymore. It’s hard to be looking for revenge when the boy cozied up to you might be suffering from actual frostbite.

  And also … those abs.

  All that working out he’s been doing hasn’t been for nothing. It’s all I can do to keep from peeking down between the blankets to stare.

  “No, my parents aren’t getting divorced, but they might end up that way after this,” he says with a dismal expression. He takes one glance at the door, as if he thinks someone might be listening—but then his shoulders deflate. As does the rest of him. “They recently lost everything—like I mean everything,” he admits. “My father’s companies went bankrupt, my mother’s assets were seized due to debt collection, and even the banks froze their accounts. They’re selling the house and moving into an apartment just to be able to afford to keep me here. That’s why I’ve been exercising like crazy and working so hard to keep my athletic scholarship. If I lose my scholarship, then I’ll have to drop out.”

  Wow. I don’t even know what to say.

  “They didn’t forget about coming to get me, they just couldn’t afford to. They couldn’t afford to get me a plane ticket or even to gas up the car to drive all the way here and back. Besides, my dad just got a new job and he’s pulling extra shifts so he couldn’t take the time off to come get me, and my mom is too nervous about driving in the snow by herself.”

  “Oh gosh, Chase, I am so sorry,” I say, and I mean it. I really am sorry for him. I wrap my arm around his shoulder and give him a hug.

  In this moment, I don’t care what he’s done in the past. It was never really him anyway. Of all the boys, he’s always been the one most puppeteered by Warren.

  And I wonder, suddenly, how much of that is the reason.

  How much of that was done out of necessity, out of worry of what else he might lose if he disobeyed.

  I don’t really know what else to do besides hold him and listen. After all, what else can I do?

  I have nothing.

  But I never had much before.

  It’s not like I have any way to actually help his situation, and I don’t know enough about his relationship with the others to be able to give him any advice. I mean, I’m kind of in the same boat as far as being broke, but thanks to the blackmail I have over Bridget, at least I had a bit of an advantage to help me out.

  “Hey, are you hungry?” I ask when I realize that the only thing that I’ve had for dinner so far is coffee.

  Chase’s face immediately lights up as if I’ve offered him a pot of gold.

  “Yes, starving,” he says.

  “Alright,” I say with a smile. “We’re going to fix a few things here tonight, starting with food.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I pull out all the food that I have in my dorm, which isn’t too much considering the size of my tiny dorm room fridge, but I have enough stuff to satisfy Chase’s hunger.

  Given the considerable size of his appetite, even managing to do that is quite the accomplishment.

  Once he’s warm and fed, he sits comfortably against the side of my bed and looks at me with the same kind of eyes as a rescue dog looking at its new owner—like he has, at long last, found his one true love.

  But after Sterling, I know better than to think that’ll last past the next time his stomach makes a rumble and he’s already off in search of his next meal.

  Besides, it isn’t that big of a deal. Anyone with half a soul wouldn’t have let him stay out there freezing and starving. But I can see that he isn’t used to being treated as nicely by everyone, which kind of makes me sad and even less motivated to try to get him back for being an ass right along with Warren and Sterling last term.

  “So, what are you going to do now that your parents can’t really afford for you to be here?” I ask once we are both cozily snuggled up under the blankets. I cup his hands in mine, his fingers still somehow cold after all this time, even while the rest of him is looking better.

  At least he isn’t shivering, his fingertips are no longer blue, and I can feel his warm toes press against mine beneath the blankets.

  “I mean, I have to make sure to keep my athletic scholarship, but that only covers the cost of tuition. So, I picked up a small side job on campus helping the coach out with clean up after practices,” he says pragmatically. “That should be enough to cover my half of the room and a bit of food.”

  “Wait a second,” I say as things are finally starting to fall into place in my mind. “That’s why you want to share the room with Warren, isn’t it?”

  Chase looks a little disheartened that I’ve figured out how dire his situation is, but in my mind, it just makes him seem softer and more human. Compared to the rest of them, it isn’t a bad thing.

  “Yeah,” he answers with a touch of embarrassment in his tone. “I can’t afford to stay here unless I share a room, and even then, it’s a stretch.”

  “Why Warren?” I ask. “Just curious, but why don’t you ask to share a room with Sterling? Doesn’t it get annoying dealing with Warren’s sister all the time?”

  Chase laughs. “Well I guess you of all people should know all about that since you have to actually dorm with her.”

  “True,” I chuckle. “She pays for almost everything so that’s why I do it.”

  “Fair enough,” he says. “To be honest, I’m not sure I could handle having Sterling as a roommate anyway. You know how he can get.”

  Oh, I do.

  “And besides,” he continues, “Warren has an endless supply of cash and he picks up the tab for almost everything. Honestly, without him I know that I wouldn’t be able to stay here at all—even with my scholarship.”

  “Oh my gosh, is that why Warren keeps pressuring you so much to get me to let him out of his volunteering shifts? Is he holding the room sharing over your head or something?”

  Chase gets quiet and his cheeks flush a warmer shade of pink than they had before.

  “It’s okay,” he says in defense of Warren. “It’s not like seeing a private tutor to catch up on classes is a bogus reason. I mean, at least he’s trying to use the time to make himself better. I can’t even imagine having dyslexia myself, especially not as bad as he has it.”

  No sooner have the words come out of his mouth, then his face drops.

  I know the look well.

  “Shit,” he says as he shakes his head. “Warren is going to kill me if he finds out I told you about that. Their parents are super strict about keeping Warren’s dyslexia a secret. They have a thing about maintaining a ‘perfect’ image of their family.”

  I shake my head. I’m not going to run off and tell Warren that Chase told me about his issue, but it makes me mad that Warren has something to hold over his head and manipulate him with.

  I should be more than mad. I should be furious.

  But instead, I can’t help but think of Warren in a bit of a softer light now too. Having a weakness like dyslexia and working to try and overcome it is a lot better of an excuse than just trying to ditch volunteering hours.

  I feel kind of bad for Warren because a decent set of parents wouldn’t be hiding a learning disability and making their son feel ashamed of it. But then again, it seems like none of us have decent parents around here—me among the rest of them.

  Although it sounds like Chase’s parents might be the one exception to that. And, of course, they would be the ones to lose everything.

  Figures.

  “Don’t worry,” I say to try and reassure him. “I’m not going to go running off to tell Warren. I do think it sucks though that he gets to hang something over your head, and that you have to share a room with
him at all.”

  “Eh, it’s alright. I actually don’t mind sharing. Even if I didn’t have to share a room, I would still probably want to.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I like having the company.”

  Not me, I would be perfectly happy to be all by myself and not have to deal with anyone else’s drama at all.

  Chase is kind of sweet. Sweeter than I had given him credit for. The fact that he’s been hiding Warren’s secret and trying to help his friend is … surprisingly attractive.

  There’s definitely a lot more to these boys than originally meets the eye.

  I’m not quite ready to think that maybe I’ve been completely wrong about them, but I am getting closer to thinking that maybe I might want to lay off the revenge a little bit. Like Alaska and Clark had said, maybe I have been taking it a little too far.

  Who cares if Bridget is regaining her foothold with her friends? If that means I have to spend one less afternoon listening to Tammy or Annabelle talk about which exotic location they’re going to for Christmas break, that’s fine by me.

  If I really look at Chase as he is here and now, sitting snuggled up with me in my dorm room—I honestly think I could even, might even like him. He’s not at all the guy that I thought him to be for a while there.

  His first impression is more accurate than anything. Soft. Kind. Funny. And to be honest, I like sitting snuggled up with him here in my bed a lot more than I thought I would.

  “It’s still a little cold in here,” I say as I move to get up and go get another blanket from out of my closet. “I’ll be right back.”

  When I go to move, Chase puts his hand on my wrist, and I look over at him without realizing how close our faces already are. I’m not sure what he was originally getting my attention for, but I am sure that he has my attention now. I see his eyes dart down to my mouth, and before I can ask him why he’s reached for me—Chase leans in, pressing against me as he puts his warm lips on mine.

  The kiss is soft, and deep, and everything about the feeling of his hand on mine and his mouth on mine, and our bodies pressed up against each other, is intoxicating. When he pulls his mouth away, I no longer want to get out of bed. I’m definitely not cold anymore.