You’re Mine

Chapter 72

Easton

“Good morning, gorgeous,” I say to Harper the moment I reach her locker, leaning against the one beside hers, so I have a full view of her.

Goddamn it, she looks sexy in the morning.

Hair still a little wet and wild, like when I get done fucking her. Skin smelling all tropical. Lips covered in gloss, so they look plump and juicy.

I cinch her waist with my fingers, and she immediately slaps them away, practically growling, “Morning.” She slams her locker shut and takes a step back.

What the fuck?

I don’t let her get very far, catching her before she’s no more than a pace away, and I turn her around to face me. “What’s wrong?”

She laughs in a way that tells me none of this is funny. “Really? You can’t tell what’s wrong?”

Women.

I can’t for the fucking life of me ever figure them out.

But all signs point to her being pissed about something.

“You’re mad.” I search both of her eyes. “But what about?”

“It’s sorta mind blowing that you’re just noticing. That you didn’t see I was mad last, night.”

“Last night?” This time, I grip her waist, ignoring when she tries to wiggle away, and I pull her into the quiet entrance of an unused classroom. She stays, but moves back, putting distance between us. I wait for her to look at me before I continue, “Let me get this straight. You instigated sex at your house, you texted me before you went to bed. How am I supposed to know you’re angry?”

“Every indication was there, Easton. You just weren’t paying attention.”

“What?” I look at her like she’s speaking a different language. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Because you were too sexed-up and orgasm-high when you left my house to notice that I practically kicked you out.”

I thought back to my exit and it was a little rushed. “What about your text?”

“It was one word-night.”

I’m tempted to pull out my phone, but it isn’t worth it. She isn’t backing down until she wins this. NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

“Harper,”

“No,” she says, cutting me off. “You need to understand that I gave you what you needed last night to calm you down. I was afraid you were going to do something stupid, like go over to Blake’s house and knock him out to the point where you got arrested. But that doesn’t change the way I feel and how much it sucks that you chose Ryan over me.”

I sigh.

This argument is a giant waste of our time.

“That’s not what happened.”

Her top lip curls. “Seriously? That’s what you’re going to come back with when we both know that’s exactly what happened.” She points her finger at my chest. “The second you got that phone call, you rushed us into your Jeep, you drove across town like you were competing in Nascar, and the minute I got out at my house, you practically peeled out.” || try to intervene, and she stops me. “I wanted the pizza dinner, the alone time with you, and to feel like it’s more than just ..” Her voice cuts off and emotion begins to fill her eyes. “Sex.” She swallows. “I feel like that’s all you care about, that you don’t give a shit about how I feel.”

I shake my head. “I can’t fucking believe this …”Iglance toward the hallway, making sure no one is listening to us. “Everything was fine between us, it was perfect. We had a great time when we ditched school, you were screaming your little lungs out when I was making you come in the hot tub. And now? We’re here? Where is this even coming from?

We’re fighting about something that doesn’t even matter.”

“That’s the problem, Easton. It does matter. It’s the whole base of our relationship. If you run off to Ryan every time we’re in the middle of something, we’re never going to work. I need to know I matter too.” Her voice lowers. “I need to know you care.”

I don’t like her assumptions.

I don’t like the hurt in her eyes.

And I don’t like that she’s been sending so many mixed messages-fucking me, texting me, hating me- that I can’t even keep up.

“Tell me what you want, Harper.”

“Communication.”

“That’s it?”

Her hands push against the wall behind her. “That would be a start. If you’re going to go

all Nascar driver on me, then at least tell me why you’re driving that way and where you’re going.”

I go to reach for her and decide to cross my arms instead. “But I didn’t know why Ryan needed me.”

“The point is, he needed you, he told you where to meet him, and you said nothing to me about it.”

She’s asking me to be fully transparent, something I’ve never been with anyone. I don’t normally do relationships, I just fuck. That means I’ve never had anyone to report to, no one to answer to. I come, I go, I do me.

Harper wants to change that.

I take in a deep breath, holding it in. “I’ll do my best.” My arms drop and I surround her waist, pulling her closer. “Does that earn me a kiss?”

She rolls her eyes. “How much of that was the truth and how much was bullshit just to get me into the janitor’s closet so you can fuck me against the wall?”

I’ve missed her smile.

I’m happy it’s back.

I pull her in closer, our bodies now touching. “The janitor’s closet doesn’t have any good walls, they’re all covered in supplies.” I growl as I press my lips to hers, taking in her

taste.

She gives me a small kiss and says, “You know, an I’m sorry’ would be a nice, added touch.”

Damn it, she’s relentless.

“I’m sorry.” I kiss her again. “I shouldn’t have ditched you for Ryan.” I taste her one more time and say, “Can I walk you to class now?”

She nods and I slip my arm around her shoulders. We haven’t walked more than a few feet when I come across a face in the crowded hallway that makes my fucking teeth grind, my free hand clench.

Blake.

That fucking cocksucker.

“Down boy, we’re in school,” Harper whispers in my ear, sensing my change in temper. “Think of how much it’ll suck if you get suspended for a week and you can’t see me after every period.”

I don’t give a fuck at this moment.

All I can think about is my fist meeting his nose.

“If he so much as glances in this direction, he’s dead.”

I wait for the look.

For the visual goading.

For any excuse to fucking pummel him in this hallway.

But I don’t get the chance because Harper grabs my face, turning my attention toward her, and says, “What are you going to do to me tonight?”

“Excuse me?”

“Tonight … when I strip off my clothes and let you do anything you want to me.”

I know what she’s doing.

And, fuck me, it’s working.