Filed to story: You’re Mine Read Online Free
Fuck, it’s delicious.
“But a man’s still gotta eat.” Harper shakes her head and pops open the lid of her container, staring at the two tacos she ordered that are nestled inside.
A shiver steals over her and she slams the lid shut.
“I can’t.
I’ll barf.” Not a good sign.
If she’s throwing up and tired all the time and horny…
My girl is probably pregnant.
As in, I knocked her up.
I’m responsible for making her that way.
Fuck, her parents are going to be so disappointed in me.
And I can’t even think about my parents and how they’ll react.
My dad will go on a rampage, telling me how I ruined my life all over a girl.
Well, she’s the most important person in my life, so if I’m going down and ruining my life, at least I’m doing it with the girl I love.
“Drink up,” I tell her, waving at the glass of water.
“Then, go take the test.” She chugs water while I consume my burrito, and I’m glad to see her munch on a few chips.
She’s been looking thin lately.
And pale.
I just chalked it up to stress.
But maybe it was something else.
I’m about halfway through my monster burrito when she grabs one of the tests and heads for the guest bathroom that’s next to the kitchen.
“I’m going in.”
“Want me to come with?” I ask, my mouth half full.
“After I pee,” she says.
“I’ll call for you.” Within minutes, she’s calling my name and I head for the bathroom, my steps heavy the closer I get to her.
These next few minutes should determine the course of my life.
My heart starts beating wildly in my chest, causing a dull roar in my ears.
Swallowing hard, my mouth is dry, and I sort of feel like I could throw up.
Fuck.
She’s at the sink, staring at the test device as it sits on the counter and when she hears me approach, she lifts her head, glancing over her shoulder at me.
“I was going to wait for you, but…”
“But what?” I ask, my heart in my throat.
Her smile is a glorious sight to see.
“It’s negative.”
“No way.” I stand next to her, staring down at the test, seeing the best word ever appear.
Negative.
“Take the other one,” I suggest.
“What if it comes up positive?”
“It won’t,” I say with confidence.
We go back to the kitchen and I finish my burrito while Harper eats one of her tacos.
She seems lighter.
Happier.
So aml.
She guzzles the water and I crack open a beer because, holy fuck, I need it to calm my frazzled nerves.
We’re not in the clear yet, but we’re close.
Really close.
“Should I really take the other one?” she asks once she’s finished her second taco.
“Yeah.
Definitely,” I say with a nod.
She heads for the bathroom and I check my phone to see I have a text from my best friend.
Ryan: Where are you guys? Me: At my house.
Ryan: Fucker.
You should’ve invited us.
Harper gave me some bullshit about you guys looking at Christmas lights.
Me: We were going to do that, but we changed our minds.
Ran into Aisha at a Walgreens.
Ryan: Why were you at Walgreens? Damn it.
I don’t want to explain myself.
Me: Harper wanted candy.
Ryan: Figures.
Can we come over? Sadie and I are bored.
Now is not the time, but how do I tell that to Ryan? Me: I don’t think so.
Harper is stressed out.
Ryan: She was born stressed out.
Me: She’s been worse lately.
You’ve noticed it.
Ryan: You’re right.
She has.
Work your magic over her and calm her down.
Maybe we could get together tomorrow.
Me: Maybe.
“Easton!” Harper shrieks from the bathroom.
My phone tumbles from my hands and lands on the floor with a plop, but I don’t even care.
I’m rushing toward the bathroom, stopping in the doorway when I spot Harper standing there, the test clutched in her fingers, her cheeks dripping with tears.
Oh fuck.
“What does it say?” I ask, bracing myself.
She bursts out laughing.
“Negative, motherfucker.
You’re not my baby daddy!”
Harper
I’m light for the rest of the night, like a dark cloud has been lifted and all I can feel is warm sunshine.
Easton warns me at one point that the chance I could still be pregnant is possible but I can’t even let that thought enter my brain.
Nope.
I’m not pregnant.
I took two tests proving exactly that.
Feeling impulsive, I attack Easton in the living room, straddling him as he’s trying to watch some corny Christmas movie on the Hallmark Channel.
My boyfriend, the secret romantic? Yes, it’s possible.
“Babe, come on.
I need to know if this chick is the real daughter of Santa,” he says, his hands resting loosely on my hips as he looks around me so he can stare at the TV.
“Forget that chick.
She’s not Santa’s daughter,” I tell him, grabbing him by the shoulders and leaning in so I can give him a long, tongue filled kiss.
We come up for air a few minutes later, his hair a mess thanks to my hands and his fingers cupped firmly around my left tit, his arm tunneled beneath my sweater.
“How do you know?” I roll my eyes.
“I watched the movie with my mom last week.” We kiss some more, until I’m basically dry humping him and he’s helping me along, his hands firm on my hips as he shifts me back and forth over his erection.
I pull away slightly, my fingers seeking when he tries to wrench away from me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, exasperated.
“I just had a thought.”
“What is it?” I lean in to kiss him again but he averts his head.
“You were sick a few weeks ago.
You went on antibiotics,” he says.
“Yeah, so?”
“I’ve heard that can make birth control less effective.” His gaze locks with mine.
“Maybe that’s what happened.
And maybe you’ re actually pregnant.” A sigh leaves me as I crawl off his lap and fall onto the couch, sitting right next to him.
“You’re ruining the mood.”
“I can’t stop thinking that you might be really pregnant.
What if that test is wrong? They’re not one hundred percent foolproof, are they? We probably should’ve bought some other ones, just in case,” he says absently, his gaze growing distant, as if he’s lost in thought.
“It claimed to be pretty accurate on the box,” I reassure him, but he’s not having it.
“Nothing is guaranteed, babe.” He sends me a look, like I’m so silly for believing that we’re in the clear.
“We won’t know anything until you get your period.” Another sigh leaves me and I cross my arms.
“Like I said, you’re ruining the mood.”
“And I can’t stop thinking about the possibility of us having a baby.” He shakes his head, his gaze finding mine.
“That’s some trippy shit.”
“For sure,” I agree, realizing I’m not going to get what I want tonight.
Oh well.
I enjoy spending time with him.
Kissing him.
Watching him get into a silly holiday movie about Santa’s daughter and how she’s helping a small town find the magic of Christmas once again.
It’s corny yet Easton is enjoying it.
Maybe he needs the distraction.
It’s been a whirlwind of emotions tonight.