You’re Mine

Chapter 43

Harper

Oh my God, did he really just say that? And then take off like a scared little chicken shit?

Why yes. He did. This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

What, now he wants to shove me into Blake’s arms? Does this make him feel less guilty for kissing Aisha? If that’s the case, what a total prick.

| already knew this though. He’s a complete asshole who only thinks of himself. Most of the time.

Well, he’s definitely thinking of me when he’s got his fingers between my legs. Or his mouth…

“What do you say, Harper? Let me take you to dinner.”

Blake’s deep voice pulls me from my lust-soaked thoughts and I blink at him, wishing like crazy that it was Easton who looked at me like that. Who asked me to dinner in front of everyone at school because he doesn’t care. He wants to be seen with me. I’m not his dirty little secret

But it’s not Easton who’s asking me. It’s Blake, who currently has a giant smile on his face, and I see something in his eyes that I’ve never noticed before. He’s looking at me as if he…actually likes me.

Uh oh.

I am so stupid. I should’ve never kissed him. Like, ever. And it felt wrong, kissing another boy when I still have feelings for stupid, annoying, make-me-want-to-rip -my-hair-out Easton. Spotting him in an embrace with Aisha had me seeing red. I didn’t even need to see her lips land on his. Actually, I couldn’t bear to see it. That would’ve sent me completely over the edge. I was done.

Over.

Finished.

Kissing Blake was impulsive and a giant mistake. That kiss sent him a signali didn’t mean. I like him, but not like that. And now he’s looking at me as if I’m the only girl for him.

“I can’t tonight,” I finally say, hating the way his face falls. “Some other time, okay? || have an essay to finish. And that history test we still need to study for.”

“Yeah. I’d suggest a little study time together tonight instead, but I’m guessing you’re going to turn me down.” His lips form into a cute little pout, making me giggle.

And I never giggle with Easton. Not ever. He doesn’t make me laugh. He makes me want to slap him.

Right before I kiss him.

“I’m afraid I would,” I say to Blake, willing myself to like him. At least a little bit.

But nope. I look into his eyes and feel nothing but friendliness.

“Gotta go to class,” I tell him. “Talk later?”

Blake snags my hand before I can walk away, pulling me in close. “You’re a mystery, Harper. One I’m dying to figure out.”

Then he lets go of my hand and saunters down the hall, whistling.

I watch him go for a moment, confused. There is nothing mysterious about me. Yeah, I might be sneaking around and hooking up with Easton in dark corners, but that’s the extent of my mystery. He’s only doing that with me because he’s ashamed to be seen with me in public, the asshole.

My heart aches and I mentally tell it to stop. I can’t get all twisted up over that boy yet again. Maybe I should give up on boys in general until I start college.

What’s happening right now is getting way too out of my control.

I go to my locker and exchange my books, then slam the metal door shut to find Easton right there, leaning his shoulder against the locker next to mine. I take a step back at first sight of the murderous glare on his face.

Aimed directly at me.

“What’s your problem?”

“You.” He spits out the word as if it’s a curse.

The moment he says it, I start walking, not wanting to hear him bash on me yet again.

I’m tired of it. A girl can only take so much.

“You’re my problem,” he says as he falls into step beside me.

Huh. I guess it’s okay to be seen in public when he’s tossing insults at me but otherwise, forget it.

“Please. Spare me the details. I don’t care if you hate me or not.” I push through the double doors and take a deep breath of fresh air, hating how shaky my exhale is.

Easton gets close to me and I’m a mess.

A jittery, fluttery mess.

My heart is thumping. My pulse is throbbing in my neck.

Between my thighs.

And he’s just walking beside me.

Seriously. I need help. A therapist maybe? Maybe I’m a sex addict who’s never had sex. It could happen

Or maybe I’m an Easton addict. One look, one touch, one kiss, and I want more.

More, more, more.

“You’re the one who hates me, remember?” He grabs my arm, stopping me from

escaping him, and I struggle against his hold. It’s no use.

He’s too strong

Easton shifts closer, his voice lowering so I can barely hear him. “Is that why you did it?”

I frown. “Did what?”

“You know.” He looks away for a moment, offering me a glimpse of his glorious profile. High cheekbones and sharp jaw. That sexy mouth and those dark eyebrows. A breeze washes over us, fluttering his hair and I long to run my fingers through it.

God, what am I? Some sort of demented fairy princess ready to hurl herself at the evil villain? I’ve been reading too much fantasy lately, swear to God.

Easton turns to face me once more, his thunderous blue gaze meeting mine and I see.hurt there?

No.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say slowly. “And besides, you’re the one who was kissing Aisha.”

“What the fuck?” He grips the back of his neck, his biceps bulging. “I did not kiss her.”

“Yes, you did. I saw the two of you together. Right before the rally. She had her claws in you.”

Literally.

“And I pushed her away.” He lowers his head until his face is in mine, his mouth so close my lips yearn to close the space between us. “Or did you happen to miss that tiny detail?”