Chapter 38
You’re Mine by Penny Brooks
Chapter 38
Harper
âYou've been warned. I'm killing your brother. Prepare yourself!â Sadie
screams into the phone. I have to hold it away, so my head doesn't
explode. âI'm serious this time, Harper. Julia's? Why the hell was he at
Julia's? She's such a whore!"
âTrue.â I agree. "But..." I almost spill that Easton is using her to write his
paper because that would also mean I have insider information, and as
of right now, Sadie just thinks we had a few makeout moments and
arenât serious when in reality, my heart doesnât understand the concept
of beating for anyone else but him.
I deflate a bit and listen as she goes through another tirade about how
all boys are the devil and should burn in hell. â...seriously though,
Harper, look at both their snaps!â
I pull the phone away and tap my Snapchat putting Sadie on speaker.
Sure enough, there are pictures of Aisha and Julia with both guys,
drinks in hand, winking at the camera like, hey thereâs more where that
came from, and it's gonna be a long night
Jealousy burns through my body.
Was Easton still there?
Even now?
I get my answer when Ryan shows up minutes later stomping all over
the house like he has a personal vendetta against the hardwood floors.
Did that mean Easton was still there or did he go home, and how do I
ask without my brother being suspicious. It's not like I can text Easton
after what went down, it might look desperate, or like I was jealous
when I'm still pissed heâs hooking up with random girls and me.
âLet me call you back,â I whisper into the phone, hanging up on Sadie
and walking into the living room.
Ryan throws himself against the couch. âI hate girls.â
I laugh. âCould have fooled me.â
He groans. âFucking Easton.â
I freeze, unable to breathe or move. âWhat did he do now?â I sit down
and wait for
âOh, you know Easton thinks with his dick more than his brain.â He
shakes his head. âHe's lucky all he had to do was give Julia a quick kiss
for her to write his paper. I'm sure Aisha was ready to run her over with
her Benz."
âWhat?â I snap.
Ryan looks over, frowning. âYou should be happy. You hate Aisha. I
mean, they're both Satan, but if I had to choose...â
I'm fuming.
So not only did he have a booty call with Aisha, but he kissed Julia so
she'd write his stupid paper?
I'm so angry I could scream.
I concentrate on the anger.
Because the hurt does nothing but make me feel like I'm bleeding out.
I'm not special to him.
I'm nothing.
And I'm stupid for even thinking that I'm more than what those girls
are, that he sees something in me when I'm so off-limits it's laughable.
My heart tries to remind me of his face when he came to the house and
tried to comfort me after the car incident, was that genuine though?
Was he? He's so
arrogant it's impossible to know if heâs randomly showing up because
heâs just a horny high school guy, or he knows I can't resist him.
I want to punch a wall.
âWhatever.â Ryan looks down at his phone. âIf he wants to dip his dick
into the entire cheerleading squad, go for it. At least he'll get a good
grade out of it.â
âRight.â I clench my teeth.
He smiles down at his phone and then laughs. âDipshit's home, and
apparently Aisha thought we were all gonna hang out tonight, so sheâs
blowing up his phone again. It's scary how obsessed she is with him.â
"Yup, crazy.â I agree, breathing again because he's back at his house
and away from her claws.
âYou okay?â Ryan looks up from his phone. âYou keep repeating
everything I say..." His brows knit together in concern. âIs this about the
car paint?â
âNo.â I sigh. âYes.â My body rebels against me, reminding me of
Easton's mouth, his hands, the way he aggressively tugs down my
leggings, his full lips glistening after each taste. I'm just tired.â
Ryan yawns. âMe too. Don't worry, we'll figure out who has a personal
vendetta.â
I stand. âI'm going to go do some homework.â
Abrupt subject change but the more he reminds me of the cars, the
more I think about Easton, and I want to strangle the guy. Why is it so
hard? It should be easy. Hot boy with his perfect mouth only wants you
for one thing.
And yet, I find myself justifying reasons and actions-even when he says
to my face that it means nothing.
I'm so screwed.
I can't focus on anything as I go to my room and sit at my desk. I donât
really have a ton of homework or reading to do. My text alert goes off.
Easton: What are you doing?
I snort
Me: Are you serious right now?
Easton: Um, yes?
Me: Shouldn't you be texting Aisha or kissing Julia?
The little bubbles pop up and disappear only to pop up again,
Easton: Aw, it sounds like the cute little virgin's feelings are hurt.
Besides, I kissed her on the cheek, dodging her mouth like a pro. Plus,
I'm too busy to write the paper, and technically it was your fault.
Me: Name-calling, typical Easton behavior, oh add in a bit of deflection
and blame... Did you need anything?
Easton: You really need to get laid. Not it.
Me: Like I'd let you.
Easton: I'd have you panting in seconds but not sure you can handle my
dick. It's for women, not girls afraid of the dark and jealous over girls
texting me and small kisses and favors.
Me: Yes, you're such a man.
Easton: You're being a bitch.
Me: And you're an asshole, stop texting me, delete my number.
Easton: Fine.
Me: FINE
Easton: BTW I texted you to let you know that you're pretty when you
come...
I drop my phone and squeeze my eyes shut.
Easton: Deleting now.e«