Stealing Harper
Page 7

“Shit, a girl that didn’t fall all over herself to get to Chase, and she’s hot?” Brandon asked, and barked out a short laugh. “I’ve got to see this! Will she be here tonight? You said her name’s Princess?”
“Chase calls her Princess.”
Damn right, Zach. Remember that.
Brandon looked even more confused, “Well, what’s her name?”
All the guys shrugged. “Princess.”
“Well, it’s not looking good for you, brother. You had her in your bed, you didn’t sleep with her, and you gave her a nickname?”
“Because she was acting like an entitled prissy bitch, it fit.”
Everyone, including Brandon, started laughing. As soon as he could catch his breath, he shook his head sadly at me. “Never thought I’d see the day Chase Grayson was brought to his knees by a girl.”
“Whatever.” I sighed and walked outside to start moving his stuff in.
A girl bring me to my knees? Hell. No. Never, and I’d prove it. Whether my gray-eyed princess — no . . . not mine. I didn’t want her, I must have just been losing my mind last weekend—whether Harper was here tonight or not, I’d prove to her and myself that she didn’t have any type of hold on me.
“MA—DAD? I’M HERE.” I breathed in the heavy scent of bacon, and my stomach growled. God, I loved Sundays. Walking into the kitchen, I kissed Mom on the cheek and snatched a few pieces from the growing pile on the plate near Dad and clapped him on the back as I went to sit on the counter.
“Hi, honey!”
I nodded and spoke around the food. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Oh, you know, just chilling.”
“Mom”—I laughed—“you just gotta stop trying.”
“One of these times I’ll get it, and you’ll be so impressed, I’ll be cool enough to hang out with you.”
I snorted. “I’m here, aren’t I? Bree here?” Speaking of my sister . . . would she bring the princess?
“Not yet, she was doing something with her roommate first, then she was coming over.”
Nope. Damn it. “Have you met her yet?”
“Harper? Oh, she’s a doll; she slept over last weekend! You’d like her, Chase,” Mom said with a weird smile. “She’s really cute.”
Yeah she is.
Mom gasped. “So you’ve met her!”
Shit, had I said that out loud?
“Tell me what you think!”
“She’s cute.” I shrugged. “But I’ve only seen her once; they didn’t come to the party on Friday.”
“That’s it? She’s cute? I may or may not have heard she slept in your room with you the night of the first party.”
“Robert! How did you know this and I didn’t! You’re supposed to tell me everything, especially something like that.”
Dad laughed and pulled some more bacon off the skillet, “I said may or may not have.”
“Oh, you are so in the guest room tonight, mister!”
My brows were pulled together listening to them, and how did Dad hear about that?
“Well, are you going to explain yourself, Chase? Or am I going to make sure you don’t get any more bacon? Because that is a sweet girl, and if you hurt her—”
No more bacon? That’s just not right. “It wasn’t like that, Mom, I was just making sure she was safe.”
Mom’s brows shot up under her bangs, and her lips pursed.
“Bree may have told all the guys at my place that she’s basically never done anything with a guy, and I mean anything. Everyone started making fun of her, and she looked so damn embarrassed. And with those guys—hell, maybe even Brad—I know they would try to change that, and I wasn’t about to let anyone touch her; so that was my way of keeping her safe.”
“You kept the virgin safe . . . by putting her in your bed with you,” Dad deadpanned, then nodded. “Actually, that makes sense.”
“No it does not! Chase—”
“Mom, I swear I didn’t touch her!” Well not entirely true, and it’s not like I didn’t want to do a lot more touching than I did. “I just needed to make sure no one else got their hands on her either. Jesus, it’s not like she would have let me even if I tried.” I snorted and shook my head once, “First, she got mad that I got in bed with her, so she got on the floor—”
“You did not make her sleep on the floor!”
“Ma, really? No. I picked her ass right back up and dropped her on the bed.” Dad laughed, and Mom swatted him on the back. “Then get this, cutest damn thing I’ve ever heard, she more or less tells me that if I touch her, she is going to chop my dick off.”
Dad winced; Mom crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. “Good girl.”
I laughed. “Cracked me up. She can be feisty as shit, but God she’s sweet. She just—she’s . . . I don’t know.” Her wide gray eyes were flashing through my mind, and I hoped my sister would bring her. I exhaled deeply and blinked away the images, finally noticing that Mom and Dad had both turned toward me. My dad was grinning mischievously, and Mom was tearing up. Fucking hell . . . can’t I go more than a few minutes without talking about her like an idiot? “What?”
Mom bounced up and down on her toes. “Oh, honey!”
I shook my head and hopped off the counter to grab more bacon. “She’s just a girl, Mom.”