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.

I wasn't reaching out for a hug, can nobody tell that it

a leach and the last thing I needed was her trying to

I shudder.

ever even see other than an easy way to keep an

an oh

ready to legit bang her cell over my

Perfect.

More certain death.

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

stressed every time you get upset and, yes, that's

my brain and toward my body, like I might need to actually cover my dick, so she doesn't just start kicking

“Ryan,"

says through

is, starts to bolt from the room, then suddenly stops and looks

always on your side,

are just jealous whores and at some point you have

to leave you guys alone, at least not

sighs and looks up while I

“Look..."

her

are the texts from Easton the day some idiot took

grabs his phone and

know what they'll

to stress Harper out and to keep it to myself, not because I need to hide shit, but because she

for her to

and

"So..."

He yawns.

say cupcakes, I mean

"Not now,’ I interrupt.

way toward Harper's bedroom, like he's Tom

of the creaky stairs and crawls across the

as I fall back against the

and drops her phone onto the carpet,

“I'm sorry, I just...panicked.

going

always talk,’ I interrupt

important is how you

lightly grip her chin

what is it,

What do you believe?"

“You."

forward, our foreheads

“Il believe in you."