You’re Mine by Penny Brooks

Chapter 137
Easton
There are moments in a guy's life where he questions if he’s seen it all.

I had about a million of those moments tonight.

Never thought I'd be the sort of guy to stare longingly at the knives just a little bit too hard and wonder how the hell I could get just injured enough that I'd have to go to the ER by way of an ambulance.

I mean, I clearly couldn't escape in my own car, why not use the health insurance my dad so generously provides?

People slip all the time, right?

It's the holidays! Turkeys explode.

Houses burn down.

Tree's get desecrated.

It could have worked.

So could making a run for it into oncoming traffic, but I couldn't do that to Harper, I doubt she'd want my death on her hands by way of her dad scaring me shitless and mentioning trigger words like pregnancy, buns, and tree.

I shudder and find myself laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, high as fuck, missing my girl and sleeping like shit.

My eyes get heavy as I turn on my side and throw my arm over my eyes since I'm in direct sight of the Christmas tree.

Motherfucker, was that on purpose?

I groan and flip to my other side toward the couch and finally settle in with visions of sugarplums and Harper's dad dancing on my grave in my head.

Nice.

“Get up!"

Harper's voice hisses from behind me.

I nearly fall off the couch in an attempt to turn around and stare up at my girlfriend.

Ryan's sleepy gaze goes from high to completely sober as he stares at her holding up her phone at me.

This can't be good.

I literally can't see at first, despite how bright her screen is and have to rub my eyes a few times before things get more clear.

“Are you kidding me?"

I grab her phone, fully aware my girl has tears of anger in her eyes and that this could potentially be really bad for me—again.

Should I just start expecting this on the daily?

I momentarily wonder if I need to have a therapist on speed dial, then I think of Leigh, and see the picture of us talking, along with a video that seems to have just posted, showing me reaching for her.

I want to snort.

a hug, can nobody tell that it was total self defense

leach and the last thing I needed was

I shudder.

hell did I ever even see other than an easy way to keep an

me an oh shit

her cell over my head until either my skull cracks or her

Perfect.

More certain death.

Mom and Dad don't come out here and lecture us again, mention the tree, or make it so I can't get laid because

get upset and, yes, that's

sends alerts all over my brain and toward my body, like I might need to actually cover my dick, so she doesn't

“Ryan,"

through

from the room, then suddenly stops and looks

your side,

are just jealous whores and at some point you have

leave you guys alone, at least

while I lick my lips, waiting to defend

“Look..."

her and pulls out

are the texts from Easton the day

slowly grabs his phone and stares

what they'll

not because I need to hide shit, but because she wasn't feeling well and

her

and hands

"So..."

He yawns.

when I say cupcakes, I mean I'm off to

"Not now,’ I interrupt.

and slowly makes his way toward Harper's bedroom, like he's Tom Cruise in Mission

the creaky stairs and crawls across

still high, I say to myself as I fall back against the couch and

her shoulders and drops her phone onto the carpet, then crawls onto me, straddling my

“I'm sorry, I just...panicked.

going to talk

always talk,’ I interrupt

is how you feel and what

grip her chin between my

what is it,

What do you believe?"

“You."

forward, our foreheads softly

“Il believe in you."