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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Kyra Parsi
Read between
February 4 - February 5, 2025
“Jackson Sinclair doesn’t need a matchmaker, he needs a miracle worker. And a really good therapist, if I’m being honest.”
“I don’t need coaching.” “Oh, you definitely need coaching,” I said without hesitation. “I can say with absolute confidence that if anyone needs a dating coach, Mr. Sinclair, it’s you. That’s my professional opinion, speaking from direct personal experience.”
Abysmal. Manners. Attitude. Body language. All of it. All of him. Abysmal.
If this were a real second date, I’d already know your size.” I frowned. “What? How?” “Because your shoes would have been discarded on my bedroom floor by the end of the first one.”
“You want to know a little secret?” He still hadn’t dropped his hand. “Only if it’s relevant to helping me find you a suitable match.” I had very little interest in learning anything about him otherwise. I swear his eyes were twinkling as they slid between mine, his smile jerking. “I kind of like it when you’re mean to me.”
A few more items to add to my growing list of life-threatening allergies: 1. Whatever cologne he was always wearing. 2. My body being forced into close proximity with his body. 3. His bow tie (which I was absolutely not internally obsessing over). 4. Him clipping my safety belt into place for me.
Hope was such a viciously miserable thing sometimes.
“I can make you sushi all the time.” “You just said you don’t enjoy cooking.” “Hate it. It’s a complete waste of time.” He tossed the towel he’d used to dry his hands and wedged himself between my dangling knees again. “But if it made you happy, I’d do it.”
“I care about you, okay?” I said, my voice wobbly. “Very much. And I want you to be happy and fulfilled and... honestly, I think you’re really awesome. Like you’re funny, and you’re charming, and kind. You try to hide it but you’re all of those things, and I’m sorry I misjudged you at the beginning. I’m sorry for how mean I was, which—oh, and for the whole disguise thing. That was really unprofessional and not nice, and I completely understand why you acted the way you did on the date. I also never thanked you for saving my life even though, like, you could have pushed me into the pool, and I
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“You think I’m easy to fall in love with?” His voice was husky, quiet.
“You are about as loveable as it gets, Jackson Sinclair. You’re perfect exactly as you are right now, in this moment. I. Was. Wrong. I admit it with my whole heart. I was so wrong about you that it’s fucking embarrassing. And you want to know what else? If you ever end up changing your mind about this whole romance thing, I think it’s really important that you understand how stupidly easy it would be for you to find someone who’d love the shit out of you for the rest of your life. That’s how loveable you are, Jackson.
“It’s not him,” he whispered against my lips. “It’s not him. Come back to me, Jamie.”
“Stop. Just... stop.” His voice was gruff with exasperation as he stepped forward. “Does this feel right to you? Does seeing me with someone else feel right? Because I’m losing my fucking mind over here, Jamie. It’s fucking horrible.”
“How can you stand it?” His voice was raw, anguished. “How is it fair that you’re only halfway there, but I can’t fucking breathe anymore, Jamie?”
“I’m done. Eight billion people in the world and my Jamie’s the best fucking one. It’s her, or it’s no one. I won’t be blackmailed and manipulated into making the single biggest mistake of my life, so fuck you, fuck the shares, and fuck the family legacy. I choose Jamie.”
