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What I don’t realize is that I’ll be fighting the urge to stare at Jasper Gervais for years to come.
And for Sloane I keep every promise, no matter how badly they hurt.
“I mean, you look beautiful,” I rush out, grimacing when I note her eyes widening. “You always do. You just don’t look . . . happy?”
Plus, 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. I’m more pleased about that than I should be.
“Maybe if I drink enough of these”—I lift the six-pack, feeling a little loopy—“I’ll invite you to join me.”
And watching her comfort Harvey right now, I let myself admit that the way I love Sloane might not be how one friend loves another at all.
And just like that Beau Eaton cements himself as one of the very best things in my life . . .
But as usual, she doesn’t shy away from my darkness—after all, she’s my Sunny. She chases away the dark just by being herself.
The difference is, I wish Sloane were still pressed against me, and I never wished for that back then.
“That’s probably what you tell all the girls, Gervais.” “Nah, Sunny. You’re my only girl.”
Everything in the world feels wrong. But standing here with Sloane in my arms feels right.
The dating scene had turned into my own real-life version of one of those Wish.com memes. I kept placing an order for Jasper Gervais and the universe kept sending me these laughable cheap-ass knockoffs.
Because I’ve been staring at Jasper Gervais since I was ten years old, and suddenly . . . he’s staring back.
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.
It just is. The sky is blue. The grass is green. And I’ve loved Jasper Gervais from the first day I laid eyes on him.
Those sad fucking eyes on that first summer day that I drowned in them. A dark blue abyss. Sometimes I feel like I sank to the bottom of that deep ocean and just took up residence.
“Times have changed, Sloane. I’m not scared anymore. You’re not my fucking friend. You’re just mine.”
My brain might be in bitch mode, but my heart? My heart is in slut mode.
“See, Sloane? You can wear someone else’s ring, but we both know you’ve always been mine.”
feel like I could crumble under the weight of not wanting to disappoint you. I’m paralyzed by my fear of losing you.”
And just like that, the boy with the lanky limbs, the caramel hair, and the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen is mine. Forever.
“What did it mean?” “That when it comes to you, I’m powerless.”
