You’re Mine

Chapter 38

Harper

“You’ve been warned. I’m killing your brother. Prepare yourself!” Sadie screams into the phone. I have to hold it away, so my head doesn’t explode. “I’m serious this time, Harper. Julia’s? Why the hell was he at Julia’s? She’s such a whore!” This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

“True.” I agree. “But…” | 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 aren’t serious when in reality, my heart doesn’t 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. “…seriously though, Harper, look at both their snaps!”

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 there’s 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 he’s hooking up with random girls and me.

“Let me call you back,” I whisper into the phone, hanging up on Sadie and walking into the living room.

Ryan throws himself against the couch. “I hate girls.”

I laugh. “Could have fooled me.”

He groans. “Fucking Easton.”

I freeze, unable to breathe or move. “What did he do now?” I sit down and wait for

“Oh, you know Easton thinks with his dick more than his brain.” He shakes his head. “He’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.”

“What?” I snap.

Ryan looks over, frowning. “You should be happy. You hate Aisha. I mean, they’re both Satan, but if I had to choose…”

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 he’s randomly showing up because he’s just a horny high school guy, or he knows I can’t resist him.

I want to punch a wall.

“Whatever.” Ryan looks down at his phone. “If 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.”

“Right.” I clench my teeth.

He smiles down at his phone and then laughs. “Dipshit’s home, and apparently Aisha thought we were all gonna hang out tonight, so she’s blowing up his phone again. It’s scary how obsessed she is with him.”

“Yup, crazy.” I agree, breathing again because he’s back at his house and away from her claws.

“You okay?” Ryan looks up from his phone. “You keep repeating everything I say…” His brows knit together in concern. “Is this about the car paint?”

“No.” I sigh. “Yes.” 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.”

Ryan yawns. “Me too. Don’t worry, we’ll figure out who has a personal vendetta.”

I stand. “I’m going to go do some homework.”

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 don’t 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.••