You’re Mine

Chapter 182

Chapter 182

Easton

“What the fuck!"

It’s all I want to say after the limo's cleaned off and everything is back to normal I mean if you can call having fucking red whore across your limo fucking normal.

Harper's crying and all I want to do is comfort her.

She stiffens.

Oh shit this can't be good.

Suddenly she lifts her head and stares at me, her eyes made of steel.

“No.” “No?” Lask.

*No.” She shakes her head.

“Hell no.

This is our night.” My girl.

This girl.

“It's ours.” I want to repeat again that she’s mine but don't.

“Ours.” She sits back against the leather of the limo her tears drying.

“Ours.” She repeats.

“Ours. Mine. And I'm gonna make it epic.” Meanwhile, she can’t even comprehend how pissed I am, how angry over all of this.

It’s complete bullshit! I try to keep my voice down and nearly stutter as I try to agree.I grab the flask from my jacket and start chugging, knowing full well that I'll probably be wasted before the night ends because again.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Who the hell does this? Who targets someone as amazing as her? I'm thinking all these things as she reaches across the limo and puts her hand on my thigh.

Her nails are all done, so pretty, her dress is fucking gorgeous.

All I wanted for this night was perfection.

She had such a rough year that it's the least I can give her.

From the limo to the hotel room later, to just everything...

she deserves it—hell, we deserve it, and now it's all ruined because some dumbass decided that they couldn't let us be happy.

My stomach chums as I take another swig.

“Hey.” Harper grabs my face with her hands and presses a kiss to my lips.

“It's fine, it's going to be okay.

Honestly, I'm not even that pissed.” I snort.

“You shouldn't be used to shit like this.” “Oh, 'm not used to it.” She shrugs.

“But I'm with you.

At freaking prom, so forgive me for being happy.

We need to ignore it and figure it out later.” “And now?"

I ask.

“Now, we kiss, we hang out, we have fun, we make memories, we exist, just us, Easton.” “Just us,” I repeat.

“Yup.” She grins like she’s just solved world hunger, and it kind of feels like it as I exhale a shuddery breath and lean in to kiss her cheek.

"You're amazing,” I say.

“Truly fucking amazing.” “lam,” she agrees.

She's so damn cute.

I have this sudden need to bop her on the nose like a lunatic, instead, I just say, "You are.

You've always been.” “Bro...” Ryan claps his hands.

“Not to like interrupt this weird—ass moment but can you at least share the goods?” He holds out his hand.

I toss him the flask.

For real, I forgot he was even in that fucking limo with us.

Whoops? Sadie's furning.

But I know it’s not Ryan's fault, it has everything to do with whoever's picking on Harper.

Sadie's a good friend, she’d probably give both kidneys if Harper asked, and I love her for it.

“Babe...” Ryan elbows her.

“Drink up.” “Who the hell does this? Who has time!” Sadie throws up her hands.

Here we go.

Ryan tries to shove more alcohol in her face, but (can tell—correction, everyone can tell, the entire world can tell, that she's not focused on Ryan or the alcohol but on the fact that we have a jackass amidst the school and that it most likely isn't Aisha since she’s been fucking exposed.

“Let's not focus on it now,” Harper says with a shrug.

“We're all here, together, let’s just party and—” “—Fuck,"

I answer out loud, then jerk my head toward Ryan and wince.

“Sorry?” He groans and pinches his nose.

“It's like you forget how weird it is that you see her naked.” “We were born naked,” Harper announces.

“Together.” “That's seriously not helpful in the least.

You actually managed to make it worse!” Ryan turns toward Sadie and literally places his face between her tits for comfort.

I bark out a laugh.

“Is that the answer to your trauma, bro?” His answer is muffled as he mutters, “Tits are always the answer.” “True, true.” I agree, then turn to Harper.

“Does that mean I get some therapy as well?” “Do you need it?” I nod my head and try to put on a sad face.

“I have the sads.” “Oh God.” Harper rolls her eyes.

"Get over here.” Is it wrong to do a fist pump as I start kissing down her neck and rest my face between her tits and start licking the valley between them like I'm claiming it as my own? “They're making out, aren't they?” Ryan's muffled voice sounds.

“Shhh, shhh,” Sadie says soothingly.

“Just stay in there a bit longer, tiger.” “So wrong,” he grumbles.

"So right.” I lick then pinch her nipples with my fingers before coming up for air and claiming her mouth.

“So, fucking, right.” *I can hear you!” Ryan announces as the limo stops.

For some reason, I’m nervous, maybe because the night has already been amazing, then shit, then amazing again—but what else could possibly go wrong, I mean, seriously? I kiss Harper again and decide to just be thankful despite the anger still brewing in my soul over someone being such an ass.

It's Harper.

If you don't like her, you're the problem.

My thoughts go to Blake, how he’s been acting recently.

He wouldn't, tight? There’s no way he'd go that far, but he was with Aisha a hell of a lot this year, and we already suspected him.

But he'd been normal recently.

I'm still thinking about it as we get out of the limo and make our way toward the gym.

The music is so loud it’s almost hard to think.

We hand over our tickets and go inside.

The place has been transformed into Hollywood.

It looks pretty fucking incredible, they even have the Hollywood sign displayed for pictures that looks nearly lifelike.

Post Malone comes on, and I take a deep breath.

I'm with Harper.

It’s all I want.

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I hold out my hand and yell.

“Let's dance!"

“Lead the way!” She laughs and twirls next to me as we make our way out to the dance floor.

I'll salvage this night if it's the last thing I do, I think as I twirl her again and then grind against her.