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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?”
“Raise your voice at that woman one more time and I will drop you like a stone, Woodcock.”
“That’s probably what you tell all the girls, Gervais.” “Nah, Sunny. You’re my only girl.”
“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.”
Because I’ve been staring at Jasper Gervais since I was ten years old, and suddenly . . . he’s staring back.
“Because I think I’m about to fuck everything up between us.” And then he kisses me.
“Times have changed, Sloane. I’m not scared anymore. You’re not my fucking friend. You’re just mine.”
“How many times do I need to tell you for you to believe me? Before I get to hear it back?” I shake my head in disbelief at this man I know so damn well, yet not at all. “It’s always been you, Jasper. It will always be you.” I sigh heavily. “Please tell me what to do with that.”
