You’re Mine by Penny Brooks
Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Easton

Blake's hands clench into fists as he glares at me from the end of thehallway, his nostrils flaring like a bull. “Why the hell were your lips allover my girl?” He nods toward the closed door of Harper's bedroom.“Your girl?"

I want to laugh.

I've known the guy since I was a kid, but suddenly he feels almost like astranger. And someone I want to knock the fuck out and never set eyeson again.

“That's right, asshole. My girl.”

“So, you're telling me, you've claimed her? You and Harper are datingnow?"

“It doesn't matter what the hell our title is. I like her and I've made thatclear to you. But obviously, you have no boundaries when it comes toyour friends.”

He made it clear to me?

I would hardly call it that.

When I mentioned to him that they seemed to be getting close, heasked if I felt threatened. I then asked if he was going to pursue her,and he shrugged.

And Harper's the one who kissed him in the hallway-the visual, onceagain, making me fucking crazy-not the other way around.

One thing I do know is I don't want him to tell Ryan about what he justwitnessed.

I'm not ready for him to replace out about us.

How the hell can I get myself out of this mess?

Before I even get the chance to respond, Harper's bedroom door opensand she pops her head out, peeking into the hallway.

Her eyes widen when glances from me to Blake. “What's going on outhere?” Panic covers her face.

I'm not surprised, not when she knows Blake has a hard-on for her, andher pussy is still wet from my tongue.

I don't want her to get sucked into this, this is between me and Blake.

I lower my voice and say, “Nothing, go back inside-"

“No,” Blake interrupts, “why don't you stay and tell us which mouth youprefer.” He glares at me. “Mine or his.”

Nice try, dickhead, but we're not going down that road.

“Harper, don't answer that motherfucker's question.”

“I'm the motherfucker?” Blake snaps. “Because, from what I just saw,that role is all yours.”

“Harper, get back inside,” I order.

She disappears and shuts the door behind her, leaving us alone in thehallway.

“For someone who cares about her, you have a real shitty way ofshowing it,” I tell him. “Putting her in the middle, that's real classy.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, more anger seeping into hisexpression. “You're just afraid she’s going to choose me.”

I laugh.

And I draw out the sound and movement, making sure he knows howfunny he is. “If that's what you want to believe, be my guest.”

“It's not what I believe, it's fact.”

I'm not going to sit around and waste my time getting nowhere withhim, not when I

know he’s not going to say anything to Ryan when I can come back andtell Ryan about their make out session at school.

“You're ridiculous,” I bark and rush down the stairs.

“Run away, Easton, like a real fucking pussy.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

I stop in the living room, seeing the guys through the patio door. I can'treturn to the backyard and pretend nothing has happened betweenBlake and me. Ryan will know within a second and every secret willcome tumbling out.

My only option is to get out of here.

I catch Blake's stare one last time, my lips tightening the moment I seehis smugness. “Have fun lying to Ryan, you pathetic piece of shit.”

He chuckles. “I'm the pathetic one?”

I don't respond and I hear him following me to the door. With my handon the knob, I turn around. The hairs of his bun are loosening, and Iwant to take a pair of scissors and cut the fucking thing off.

I can deny what he saw upstairs and try to smooth things over, or I canconfess what he already knows.

I'm going to do something even better.

“It's on, Blake. It's fucking on.” I smile. “There's only one man who'sgoing to win that girl ... and it's me.”

I flip him off and leave through the front door, climbing into the driver'sseat of my Jeep. I pull out of the driveaway and shoot Ryan a quick text,letting him know something came up and I had to go.

The message sends and my phone starts ringing, Aisha’s name on thescreen. If I don't answer, she'll just keep calling.

I straighten the wheel and hit the gas, holding the phone to my face.“What's up?”

“Why do you sound so out of breath?”

Because I'm fighting off friends who are after my mystery girl and it'smaking me

crazy.

“I'm not. I'm driving.”

"Come over.”

I slow as I approach the red light. “Now?”

“Julia is on her way, and she's offered to write your history paper.”

I wrack my brain, trying to figure out what she's talking about. “I havehistory homework?”

“Seriously, Easton, are you really that dense? You and Julie have historyclass together and she told me you have a paper due tomorrow and,knowing you, you haven't written it. Looks like I'm right.”

I spent the entire class fuming, watching Blake like every single one ofHarper's pictures on Instagram. Of course, I missed the teacher givingus an assignment.

There's no way I'll get it done by morning, not when the only thing Ican think about is how badly I want to be in Harper's bed right now, mymouth tasting her wetness again.

“All right, I'll come over,” I reply. “But I can’t stay long.”

“Why, you have somewhere else you need to be?”

There are so many things I can say, and none will lead to anywheregood.

“See you soon,” I respond and hang up.

I place the phone into the cupholder, and it immediately lights up witha text.

Ryan: I thought we were hanging tonight? What the fuck, man?

Just in case Blake makes any kind of reference to Ryan about Harperand me, I have to protect myself.

Luckily, the perfect excuse just fell in my lap.

Me: Aisha asked me to come over and I bounced. You know how it is-you've got to hit it when you can.

It fucking pains me to send that message.

The last thing I want is for anyone to think I'm hooking up with Aisha,but that's certainly better than telling Ryan I just ate his sister's pussyand that Blake and I are about to go twelve rounds over her.

Ryan: Staying the night at her place?

Me: Nah, I'll be home later. Why?

Ryan: Text me on your way home, I've got a story to tell you.

A .. story?

I can't imagine what this one could be about.

Me: You got it.