Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)

by Elsie Silver

What I don’t realize is that I’ll be fighting the urge to stare at Jasper Gervais for years to come.

I remember how Sloane looks at a man when she really wants him. And she isn’t looking at her fiancé the way she used to look at me.

Sloane: Are you here? Jasper: Where else would I be? Sloane: I thought you might be mad at me. Please don’t hate me. Jasper: I could never hate you, Sunny.

“Maybe if I drink enough of these”—I lift the six-pack, feeling a little loopy—“I’ll invite you to join me.”

Beau is my best friend. We’ve been joined at the hip for years. He’s the kid who saved me and brought me here—no questions asked. He’s my brother in every way that counts.

You don’t want to see me too often without concealer.” “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.”

“That’s probably what you tell all the girls, Gervais.” “Nah, Sunny. You’re my only girl.”

“Booty short, bikini cut, or thong? Or does your rule of everything looks good on me apply here too?”

That game was . . . oof. Is Jasper okay? Sloane: No. Violet: He needs you more than he realizes. Don’t leave him. You’re his person. Sloane: I won’t.

“Give me the keys, Jasper. I’ll drive us.” “Not a chance,” he says as he wipes the towel over his face. “Listen, I know you don’t like when other people drive. But I promise I’ll be fine.” He shakes his head, peeking at me from over one broad shoulder. “No.” I roll my eyes and sigh dramatically while continuing to rub slow circles on his back. “Control freak.” He stiffens slightly before giving a terse nod. “Yup.” “At least you own it.”

With a deep sense of dread, I pull my phone out and stare at it. It’s my mom. And this is the first time she’s called. Her response to my mass text was, Take care of yourself. I love you.

“So what are you going to do?” The tip of his tongue catches between his straight white teeth, as though he’s biting it to keep himself from saying anything more. “What do you think I should do?” His mouth twists. “Sunny, the last thing you need in your life is another man telling you what to do.”

“Jas? Talk to me. Tell me what’s in your head.” I turn to her, all my restraint snapping under the weight of the night. “My head? My head, Sunny? My head is a fucking mess. I hate that Beau is missing and my family is hurting. I hate that my team is struggling and I’ve been sidelined. I especially hate that someone took advantage of you, that he hurt you. Belittled you. Yelled at you. You’re one of the most important people in my life, and he treated you like shit. And I really fucking hate that.”

“Jasper, why are you so angry about this?” She looks confused. “I’m fine.” “I’m angry because I want you happy and safe. You weren’t. I pulled away when I found out you were engaged.” What I don’t admit out loud is that my feelings were too jumbled and complicated to face in the wake of that announcement. It winded me in a way I never saw coming. “But you still needed my help, and I wasn’t there for you. You came so damn close to being trapped in a life that would have been miserable for you.” This last week has put me into a state where I’m practically frothing at the mouth to protect her, to rescue her—to ensure she never ends up in that position again. And I’m realizing that what I’m feeling is a whole lot more than a brotherly sense of protection. It’s envy. It’s possession. “Jasper.” Her eyes are like saucers, her hands held wide as she lifts them and drops them back down in an exhausted shrug. She steps closer, eyes roaming my face. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m here. With you.” Her fingers slide over my hand still fisted on the pillow, and she locks in on my eyes. “It’s just you and me. Together. And I’m safe.”

No. I’m not sad about the wedding. I’m . . . relieved. Isn’t that awful? All I feel is intense relief. Am I going to hell for admitting that?” My thumb brushes over the bone in her wrist. The way I feel about her wedding crumbling into nothing is intense relief too. “Nah. If you’re going to hell for that, then I’ll definitely be there for all my shit too.” She yawns, and her body softens beside me; she has to be so tired. “Hell might be alright if you were there with me.”

“Hell might actually be alright if we’re stuck there together, Sloane.”

I give in to that little voice in my head. The one that tells me I need her. I draw her body against mine, my arms wrap her up, and our legs tangle together instantly. “Goodnight, Sunny,” is all I say as I revel in the comforting heat of her.

“Did you get dressed in the dark?” Cade snipes at me. Harvey barks out a laugh, and I glance down at myself, realizing I grabbed a neon pink shirt with a yellow energy drink logo on it, black and white stripes on the arms. It truly is atrocious, but it was dark last night. I think it was promotional. I’m positive I’ve never worn it before. And it really does clash with the pair of army green joggers I’m wearing. My lips quirk. “Listen, the day I take fashion advice from someone as old as you, who barely leaves this ranch, is the day I die.”

think you’re just so used to everyone fawning over you that you don’t know when you look like a fucking clown anymore.” “Adorable coming from the guy who wears his jeans at least two sizes too small.” I give Cade a big, cheesy grin, loving the feel of something that isn’t just sad. “Willa likes them tight.” I quirk a brow. “How long does it take her to peel them off of you? My money is on at least five minutes.” “Bring your timer. You can watch next time, could probably teach your dumb ass a thing or two.”

“I’ll be sure to give you some notice so you can get your Viagra down in time, old boy.” “Oh, nah.” Harvey waves a hand dismissively. “The Eatons are a virile bunch. Even I don’t need those.”

“You got someone special on the receiving end of all that virility, Harv?” “A few someones. Hard to pick just one, ya know? Why choose?” He smiles back at me maniacally. “Make sure you wrap it up,” is my casual response. After the death of his wife so long ago, I’m happy he has some company. Harvey grins. “Talk to Cade about that. Not me.”

Sloane: He’s sad. He’ll be okay. Willa: You should bang him. Summer: Wils, that can’t always be your advice. Willa: Why not? It’s solid advice. Worked out for you. Summer: She just fled her wedding. Willa: Yeah, but that fucking guy sucked. Jasper has that hot, tortured vibe going for him. Sloane: He’s sad. Not horny, Willa. Willa: He can be both. Turn that frown upside down, baby girl!

“You sure?” “That we should go?” My nose scrunches as I glance over at him, so intent on me. “No. That you should come with me.” Heat flares on my cheeks like I’m a goddamn teenager. I almost giggle at the turn my thoughts take. I’d pay good money to come with Jasper Gervais.

“It’s impossible to forget how long I’ve known you, Sunny,”

“Do you think about me?” I blurt, watching him still the minute those words leap from my lips. “When we go weeks or months without talking or seeing each other . . . do you think about me?” “Why?” His voice is cool and even, giving nothing away. I twist at my ring nervously and sigh. “I don’t know. Here. With you.” I gesture between us. “I keep forgetting about everything else in my life. Everyone else. But when we’re apart I constantly come back to y—you know what? Never mind. Just ignore me.” The silence that stretches between us is thick, alive and sparking with the heat and reality of my almost-confession. A heat that suffuses my entire body when he finally responds with, “Every fucking day, Sunny.”

“I spy with my little eye something that is blue.” My lips roll together. “Okay. Blue. The sky?” “I thought this wasn’t the baby version of I Spy?” I huff out a quiet laugh. “Alright. The blue snowflake on the A/C button?” “No.” “The blue stripe on the temperature control?” “No.” My head whips around as a blue car streaks by. “That blue sedan!” The corners of his mouth tug up. “No.” “Ugh. Can we play baby I Spy, actually?” He gives me a sidelong glance. “No.” My eyes roll, and I turn to check the back seat. “My navy bag?” “It’s more of a sky blue.” “Okay, well, I already guessed the sky.” “You did.” He nods. I peer around the vehicle, racking my brain. I should have known he’d trick me after what I just pulled on him. “Did we pass a blue house or a blue barn or something?” “No. It’s in the car. And it’s one of my favorite things.” “You’re full of shit, Gervais.” I flop back, crossing my arms, trying not to pout but failing. His eyes meet mine again and stare just a beat too long. “No. I’m not.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll keep things fair and give up. I don’t know.” This time when he talks, he doesn’t look at me. He stares at the smooth road like there’s something remarkably interesting there. He swallows, and I watch the column of his throat work beneath the stubble. “It’s your eyes.”

“I told him I’m no one’s wife and I don’t owe either of them shit.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Sunny.” I don’t look back when I hear her soft response. “I always worry about you, Jas.”

the way Jasper is staring at me right now has my stomach twisting and thighs clenching. I return to gazing out the window at the black lake and try to gather my thoughts. Because I’ve been staring at Jasper Gervais since I was ten years old, and suddenly . . . he’s staring back.

“Stop stalling. Let’s go. Beau would play pool even if he sucked at it. And he’d have fun sucking.”

“Fine. But I’m going to suck.” His tongue slides out over his lips almost suggestively, head shaking like I’m in trouble. Something about the combination makes an ache unfurl behind my hips. He is effortlessly sexy. Totally distracting. “But you’re going to have fun doing it.”

That’s another side of him few people get to see. And I think I like that about him too. He doesn’t give his attention away willy-nilly. He doesn’t absently hum along to what you’re saying while scrolling on his phone. If you have Jasper Gervais’s attention, you’ve got it all, and that’s because he wants you to have it. He doesn’t just listen to me. He hears me. He sees me. And there’s something precious about that, the way he can look at someone and make them feel like the only person in the room. He’s not showy, he’s not the life of the party, but he knows how to make a person feel special, to feel loved and cared for.

Handsome fucking brain-cell-killing jerk.

Jasper: Why are you taking so long in there? Sloane: Giving myself a drunk pep talk. Jasper: What is that? Sloane: It’s where I splash water on my face and stare at myself in the mirror. Then I tell me to pull my shit together and be cool. Jasper: You’re talking to yourself in the women’s bathroom to be . . . cool? Sloane: Exactly. Jasper: Sunny. Be less cool. Come save me. The waitress keeps trying to talk to me. Sloane: So talk to her. Jasper: I don’t like talking to people. Sloane: You talk to me. Jasper: You’re not people. Sloane: Lmao. What am I then? Jasper: My person.

The sky is blue. The grass is green. And I’ve loved Jasper Gervais from the first day I laid eyes on him.

Jasper racks his cue on the wall and steps up behind me, his fresh, minty scent a vivid reminder of listening to him take a shower in the same hotel room as me. The smell of his soap wafted out on the rush of steam that escaped when he emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist and dark tattoos tracing every hard line of muscle. I didn’t get a good look at them all because I didn’t want to gawk. I forced myself to stare at the e-reader on my lap. Pure torture. I stared at the same page of the same book for the entire ten minutes, like my ability to read grew wings and flew out of my head at the mere thought of him naked and soapy.

His pecs bump into the blades of my shoulders as he stands behind me, arms dropping down around my torso like a cage. My body seizes up, and he doesn’t help matters when he softly says, “Relax, Sloane. Bend over the table.”

Harvey: You kids got somewhere safe to spend the night? Jasper: Yeah. Hotel in Rose Hill. Harvey: Two rooms or one? ;) Jasper: Don’t be weird. One room, two beds. Harvey: I’m not weird. You’re the one with a crush on your cousin. Jasper: She’s not my cousin. Harvey: Ha! But you didn’t deny the crush.

“I’ll drink your water if you give me a facial.”

“Shit happens to the best of us, Sunny, and I am not the best of us.” “To me you are,” is what I tell him.

“I can’t ever lose you,” he growls. “You won’t,” I reply quietly, right as the tip of his nose traces the shell of my ear. “I might.” “Nev—” Before I can say never, he cuts me off with, “Because I think I’m about to fuck everything up between us.” And then he kisses me.

I’ve spent years thinking Jasper Gervais couldn’t want me, but right now his body tells another story. And so do his words. “Sunny, you’re gonna make me lose my mind.” “Good,” I murmur against his mouth. “We’ll be insane together. I’m so tired of doing it alone.”

He reads me like a fucking book and then tells me something I’ve longed to hear. “You’re not alone. I’m right there with you.”

“But this isn’t the time or place. It’s not safe. And you are too fucking precious to take chances with.”

Jasper: Bad roads. Brake issues. Spending the night in a town called Blisswater Springs. Harvey: Do you win a prize for using as few words as possible? You guys okay? Can you elaborate? Jasper: I’ll call you from the hotel. We’re all good. Safe. You don’t need to worry. Harvey: Come on. Give me something. One bed or two? Jasper: Talk to you later.

“It wasn’t a moment of insanity,” I say matter-of-factly. “Sorry?” She sounds incredulous. “I definitely meant to kiss you.” She scoffs, crossing her arms and turning beet red. “You were barely responsive mere seconds beforehand. You were in shock, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.” “I don’t need you to believe me for it to be true.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Sloane? I was there. Felt your thighs go all tight on me when I tugged your hair. Heard you moan when I kissed you. Are we going to sit here and keep pretending that things don’t feel different between us now?” “They’ve always felt this way for me!” she explodes, arms flung wide, eyes shining with emotion.

her sad voice hits me like a punch to the fucking gut. “I never outgrew it, Jas.”

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