You’re Mine by Penny Brooks (Easton and Harper) novel Chapter 122

Chapter 122

Easton

It's weird not having my phone.

And not being able to text my girl when I literally want to bang my head against my own locker, add in a few slams, then get high so my anxiety slows down all because I just need her.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still livid as fucking hell that she didn't tell her parents about me.

And let's be honest, I'm still embarrassed that I was eating her out under a mother fucking Christmas tree while both the Santa figurine and baby Jesus watched. Son of a bitch. I'm going to hell, aren't I?

I start to sweat as I think about all the ways I'll burn for shoving my head between her thighs while her mom walked in.

I pull my beanie down over my eyes and groan when the bell rings. Thank. God. I need my phone.

I need Harper.

It's been stressful since the cabin, her sickness, grades, upcoming finals and just everything, everything seems to be causing both of us to pull more apart just when I felt like things were finally getting better.

Add in fucking Blake and yeah, maybe I do need to just store edibles in my locker and pretend they're actual candy.

I barely make it to my locker when I see Ryan approach, and he looks just as tired as I feel. “School blows,’ he groans and leans against it.

"I can't wait to be done with all of this shit."

I put in my History book and slam my locker closed. “Something happen in Pre—Cal that I don't know about?

Or is this just you bitching like you always do that Mr. Clark is dumber than a box of rocks and needs to retire?"

“He called me Bryan,”

Ryan says. "Three times.”

I bust up laughing. "Damn, I needed that laugh. Did you at least respond?"

"Yeah, because he kept going, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, and I was fucking annoyed. He pointed his stapler at me.

It was an entire experience that made me want to toss my desk."

He frowns. "Honestly, things with Sadie are going good, too good, I just have a weird feeling, one that tells me it can't always be like this and after..."

He hesitates. "You know the... desecration."

I glare. "Must you bring it up?”

"Some things you can't unhear, bro, some things scar you for life, you fucking ruined holiday decorations for my entire family.

I couldn't sleep and had to turn baby Jesus toward the window along with the little lamb because I felt guilty on your behalf.”

He shudders. “Anyways, it's just a lot. Don't people always say senior year is supposed to be the best?

Nobody ever talks about the stress.”

When I gave everything to you?

When I made the decision to be transparent?

When you made the choice to be the guy I've always known you could be?

When you said all those... things?"

A knot forms in my throat. I know I'm about to cry.

I'm still angry for my own reasons, but right now I feel like a complete dick head, the worst of the worst because while I took that to protect us—I still kept it from her, and the whole point of a relationship, of being open, is to share things that matter, and things that affect us.

"I'm starting over,’ I whisper as tears fill my eyes.

God, I can't believe I'm ready to cry, that I might actually shed a tear in front of my girlfriend. But it hurts.

It hurts so fucking bad. Everything hurts. I love this girl. I love her so much I don't know how to function.

And her expression is breaking me. I open my mouth, only to close it again, then finally mutter the damning words, "I lied. I'm sorry. I had my reasons. I only did it so—"

The bell rings at that moment. “Look, wait for me after school, I can explain...let me explain."

It's my turn to squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, knowing that this might end us. "I went over there to protect you—to protect us. And when she came onto me again—"

I take a deep breath. “She doesn't matter. Because you've always only been mine and I wanted to keep it that way."