You’re Mine by Penny Brooks

Chapter 40

Harper

I really need to stop following Easton into dark corners and closets, and he really needs to stop giving me mixed signals.

I'm still pissed about the other day.

And even angrier that it feels like he's toying with me because he knows he can. Am I really that weak of a person?

Am I that girl?

I hate that girl.

Everyone does

I pull away from him after biting down on his lower lip, tasting him, and wanting to inflict violence on his person for no reason other than a warning.

He flinches when I pull back.

His bottom lip is red from where I bit him and so enticing that I suddenly get a glimpse into what drug addiction is all about and why they teach you to never try anything once.

I tried Easton.

And now I'm in a friggin closet when I should be eating my lunch.

His hands move to my hips.

Everything pulses inside my body, my blood, my heartbeat.

His eyes are crazed, like he's not himself.

“God, did you see her today?” Aisha's voice sounds from outside the closet. Her

locker is close by. I just assumed she'd be eating her carrots then throwing them up like the rest of the cheer squad

“Ugh, don't get me started. I feel so bad for Easton. It's almost like he has to babysit her because he’s Ryan's best friend.” It sounds like Julia, but it could be Court too. “I mean, don't get me wrong, good for Easton. He's doing his charity work, but, damn, he has a life too.”

“I know!” Aisha sounds annoyed. “I mean, I guess I'd be jealous if he hasn't been giving me so much attention lately...well that and we kind of, you know...a few months ago, you don't sample the goods...” She laughs. “Then fuck the help.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Embarrassment washes over me.

“You're so right.” Whoever she is repeats. “It's only a matter of time before you guys are exclusive.”

"I'll take him however I can have him-we're meant to be.”

Easton curses under his breath and pulls away from me.

Wait, is he actually conflicted?

Upset?

He's not even freaking denying anything!

We stare into each other's eyes and I can't read his face, but I suddenly don't want to be in a closet with him anymore. I don't want to be in the same school or on the same planet with him.

If he really felt something for me, wouldn't he just roll his eyes and shake his head? Or at least bust out of the closet and call her out?

Yet he's doing nothing.

His eyes are still holding mine.

I stare him down, willing him to say something like it's not true, or I choose you, or she’s just a bitch, but it's almost like he's purposely pushing me away when

seconds ago he was pulling me close.

A tear slides down my cheek.

How embarrassing.

He reaches for me.

I bat his hands away. It hurts to breathe. A knot forms in my throat. I don't hear them anymore, so I open the door before he can stop me and look down the hall.

The coast is clear.

I move only to have Easton pull me back and shut the door. He's in my personal space again, his eyes wild. “Blake's bad news.”

“What?” I want to scream. “That's what you have to say to me.”

His eyes look guilty, like he’s telling me a lie he can't even convince himself of. “He's not good for you.”

“And you are?” Is this guy for real right now? The same one who said he just fucks, that this, whatever this is, means nothing, is giving me guy advice?

“Just...” He slams his hand against the door behind me, cursing under his breath. “Promise me, all right? I know he’s supposed to take you out or whatever, but I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't warn you.” “Warn me? You're warning...me?" I repeat. “Do you hear yourself? Since when have we been friends, Easton?”

“He just wants one thing.” He says quickly, avoiding the question. “Can't you see that?”

“And you,” I shove his chest. “I suppose you want something different, oh wait..."I snap my fingers. “You're not my brother.”

“I know I'm not your fucking brother.” He hisses, all pressed up against me, chest to

chest. Why does fighting with him turn me on as much as everything else we do together?

It's toxic.

It's wrong.

Without any warning, Easton grabs my ass and then jerks me toward him. My jean skirt is short enough that he runs his hands down my ass and hikes it up, revealing my black thong.

“Blake couldn't find your clit if you gave him a fucking map.” He rubs my bare ass cheeks with his massive hands, then brings one between my thighs. “He can't make you feel like this, so when you're sitting there flirting with him at lunch.” He flicks my pussy with his fingers. “Remember who makes you feel this way. Remember my name, not his. You can try to forget this thing between us. In fact, I welcome it because I'm not worried that after some boring...” He flicks me again, my thighs squeeze. “Ass...” Another flick. “Dinner.” He palms me, spreading my legs apart, rubbing me hard. “You'll come running back.” “You're under the impression,” I say through clenched teeth. “That I ran toward you in the first place.”

Easton's hand drops.

I quickly lower my skirt and open the door, not caring if the world sees me leaving that dark closet-only caring that Easton doesn't see more tears.

They stream down my cheeks.

I'm hurt.

I'm pissed.

And I hate that his only tool for convincing me-is to use his body when all I've ever really wanted from Easton.

Was his whole heart.