Her Spite: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (The Forgotten Elites Book 2) Eden Beck (best book club books TXT) 📖

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