Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Easton
My ears ring from the force of Harper‘s slap. In the distance I can hear applause coming from a bunch of assholes. Aisha gasps. Someone‘s yelling, “It‘s about time!”
| glance to my left to see it was Blake who said that. The fucker. He‘s laughing and clapping like he‘s watching a comedy show. I send him a murderous glare, but that only makes him laugh harder.
Harper stares up at me in horror, as if she can‘t believe she just did that.
Well, guess what? I can‘t believe she did it either. Girl‘s got balls, I‘ll give her that
Memories of what happened between us only a few minutes ago flood me. I don‘t know what came over me, fingering her in the closet like I did. I wanted to taunt her. Show her what she can‘t have.
Instead of just giving her a sample, I found that once I started, I couldn‘t stop touching her. I didn‘t want to either. The way she lifted her hips when I stroked her in a particular spot. How wet she‘d been for me. How warm and soft her pussy was. I hated the rush
that fueled me as I watched her come, knowing that I was the only one who could make her feel like that.
Shaking my head, I shove the memory out. I‘m fucked in the head when it comes to this girl. I don‘t understand what I‘m doing. I‘m just running on pure instinct.
And my instincts are taking me down a path I‘m still not sure ! I want to go
“I hate you,” she murmurs, her eyes glassy as she drops her hand to her side. She‘s shaking, I can tell, and I touch the spot where she just slapped me, my cheek still tingling.
“You weren‘t saying you hated me a few minutes ago in the closet.”
Her face screws up in anger and then she‘s gone, running down the hall, the crowds parting for her like the damn Red Sea.
“What the hell were you talking about just now?” Aisha asks me, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And what were you doing with Harper in a closet?”
I glare at her. “Not now,” I bite out.
Just before I take off after Harper.
She‘s easy to find. And slow. I catch up with her within seconds, and though she fights me, I get a hold of her, pulling her though the
double doors so we‘re outside. I lead her into a tiny alcove just around the corner of the building, her breaths coming fast as she glares at me. All I can smell is coconuts and sunshine and there‘s no one else around. Not a single damn soul who would smell like that.
I recognize the scent. It drives me out of my mind with lust every time.
No way. I refuse to believe it.
Taking my time, I drink her in. The flare of her generous hips and the dip of her tiny waist. Those tits straining against the front of her shirt. The curve of her ass in her
tight jeans and all that dark hair I‘m dying to sink my fingers into. At the very least, I want to grab her ponytail and tug on it. Pull her close to me, so I can settle my mouth on hers...
Confusion fills me and I blink hard. Earlier, in the closet, I didn‘t want to kiss her. I wanted to save it all for my mystery girl. But I feel like a complete dumbass, because I‘m starting to think my mystery girl is
“What do you want from me?” Harper asks, her hostile tone interrupting my thoughts.
I take a step back. “Where were you the night of your brother‘s
party when the lights went out?”
Her gaze flickers but otherwise, her expression remains neutral. She shrugs. “What does it matter?”
“Tell me,” I demand.
She lifts her chin. “I don‘t remember.”
“Liar.” Now I’m moving closer to her, her tropical scent like a fucking drug, drawing me in. “I think you know.” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.
“I was with Sadie.”
“Were you in the downstairs bathroom?”
Her expression turns to panic. “No.” Uh huh.
“Did you dress up on Halloween?”
She shakes her head, not even fazed by my change of subject. “You saw me. I was a more pathetic version of myself, remember?”
I can‘t believe I said that to her. I‘m such a dick. “Were you wearing a cat costume?”
“You. Saw. Me,” she repeats slowly, as if I‘m stupid. “I didn‘t dress up. I wasn‘t invited to your
party.”
“Why did you come then?”
She remains mute, watching me with wary eyes.
“Answer me. Why did you come to my party when I told you I didn‘t want you there?” I ask again.
“Sadie convinced me to go. She didn‘t want to be there alone,” she finally says, her voice small.
“And how did she convince you? Did you wear a costume? And let me guess, did Ryan catch you in it,
and freak out?” I toss at her.
Harper would make a terrible poker player. Her answer is written all over her face.
Yes. Yes, yes, yes.
She shakes her head. “I d–don‘t know.” She sounds shaky. Unsure.
“It‘s a simple question that demands a simple answer. Yes or no, Harper? Were you wearing a cat costume?”
Holy hell, I think she was.
“I already told you I wasn‘t.” She clamps her lips shut, her eyes blazing.
Oh, she‘s getting mad now. I‘m surprised steam isn‘t coming out of her ears.
“You‘re lying to me.” My voice is deceptively soft. Downright deadly. “And I don‘t like liars.”
“Well, I don‘t like idiot boys who
are too blind to see what‘s right in front of their face!” she retorts, practically stomping her foot.
That does it. I lunge for her, my fingers shackling around the crook of her elbows, yanking her toward me. She comes willingly, her
cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling with hatred.
And something else.
Something familiar.
“You‘re her,” I whisper, my entire body going numb with the realization. “You‘re my mystery girl.”
Her mouth pops open. “I have no idea what you‘re talking about–”
Before she can get another word out, 1 silence her with my lips.