You’re Mine by Penny Brooks

Chapter 134
Harper
Easton and Dad return from the patio and Easton looks like he's seen a ghost.

Or an entire colony or paranormal creatures.

He's pale and sweaty and I feel terrible for him.

I can't believe Dad hauled him outside.

Well, I can, but I can't imagine what he said to him.

Part of me wants to ask Easton when we get a minute alone, and part of me would rather never know to save myself the embarrassment.

“Are you all right?"

I whisper the moment he's at my side.

"No."

He wipes his forehead.

"I'll never recover from that conversation.

Ever."

I glance at my dad who's now standing next to my mom as she adds dressing to the salad.

The two of them smiling at each other, like they just checked the final item off their list.

"Was it that bad?"

“Let's put it this way ..."

He glances toward the oven.

“If there are buns in there, baking, don't serve me one."

He adjusts his shirt and I see the sweat marks under his arms.

"In fact, I don't know if I'll ever eat another bun again."

Oh God.

It was THAT bad.

"I'm going to go add ice to the water glasses,"

I declare, and quickly fill a large bowl with cubes and carry it into the dining room, Easton on my heels.

When I get us out of ear range, I say softly, "What did he say to you?"

He holds onto the back of a chair.

"Oh, he covered it all—birth control, pregnancy, not being allowed in your room or touching you under his roof, you going to college, dropping out of college because of me."

He pauses.

"I think I've covered most of it."

"I think I'm going to be sick."

He shakes his head.

"That makes two of us."

I drop the ice into the glasses and move over to him.

He immediately takes a step back.

And then another.

“Easton?"

"I don't want him to think anything is happening in here."

"Seriously?"

bowl on the

that?* He

weren't out there

you have no idea."

"Ugh."

kill my

can't come fast

Except ...

really

be off to

I will be, too.

places aren't

lasagna is done, can

calls

stopped hearing the clink of ice being put in the glasses and no longer

is already getting

"Be right back,"

the kitchen, grabbing the mitts before I reach

Mom is cutting and

“Mom?"

the knife still in

“Mmm—hmm?"

this, but I

the wrath from

Can we...

I don't know ...

toward the living room

knife down, the noise

think you're in a position to

her hands on

off thin ice,

your phone

neck every time you

it,

back, I don’t care where we end

her a

the front door, in

suddenly floods

toward the entryway of the kitchen, where Easton is standing, he mouths, “Thank fucking God,’ telling me

“You're late,"

in the arm as he joins

Sadie, she was being

“Ryan!"

her face turning

"He's lying!"

Mom and she's smiling, hugging Ryan hello, not an ounce of anger

course, she doesn't get upset by

He's a son.

tree shenanigans don't apply

Ugh.

Again.

“How's it going?"

whispers as

like he's about to raid your parents’ liquor

he hasn't

"That good, huh?"

soon, I was going to have to fake an illness or drop the lasagna or

pulls out of our

"I'm glad you didn't.

a horrible liar and not exactly a professional

the next time you'd see Easton, you'd be his neighbor in some old— ass

laughing at the

So does Sadie.

of tonight and all the anxiousness I've been feeling makes

“What's so funny?"