Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)

by Elsie Silver

“You always look good to me. Concealer, no concealer. Fancy dress, Harvey’s sweat suit. Smooth hair”—his hand waves over me with a low chuckle—“whatever this is. It doesn’t matter. You’re you.” I swallow and try my best not to melt onto the floor into a squishy pile of mush. “That’s probably what you tell all the girls, Gervais.” “Nah, Sunny. You’re my only girl.”

Because I’ve been staring at Jasper Gervais since I was ten years old, and suddenly . . . he’s staring back.

“Times have changed, Sloane. I’m not scared anymore. You’re not my fucking friend. You’re just mine.”

“See, Sloane? You can wear someone else’s ring, but we both know you’ve always been mine.”

“I feel like I could crumble under the weight of not wanting to disappoint you. I’m paralyzed by my fear of losing you.”