Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)

by Elsie Silver

I chance a look at Sloane now to see how she might react to my dark question. 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.

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

“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.”

Fuck my safety. If I died riding Jasper Gervais in the driver’s seat of this truck, I might be fine with that. What a way to go. Out with a bang, so to speak.

She’s the eye of the storm. True North. Somehow our compasses always bring us back to each other.