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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.
“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.
“Maybe if I drink enough of these”—I lift the six-pack, feeling a little loopy—“I’ll invite you to join me.”
“That’s probably what you tell all the girls, Gervais.” “Nah, Sunny. You’re my only girl.”
“Every fucking day, Sunny.”
Because I’ve been staring at Jasper Gervais since I was ten years old, and suddenly . . . he’s staring back.
What it tastes like, though, is rebellion. And for right now, that’s good enough for me.
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.
And you are too fucking precious to take chances with.”
“Times have changed, Sloane. I’m not scared anymore. You’re not my fucking friend. You’re just mine.”
“See, Sloane? You can wear someone else’s ring, but we both know you’ve always been mine.”
Because no matter what else is going on in the world, everything is better with her in my arms.
“I feel like I could crumble under the weight of not wanting to disappoint you. I’m paralyzed by my fear of losing you.”
He’ll edge you for a day and turn you into a happy desperate ho! That could be his tagline.
She’s the air I breathe and that fucking terrifies me. Because no matter how fiercely I love someone, I know they always leave.
“We made a promise in that truck, remember? I can’t go without you again. Nothing is more important than being here with you.” He palms my knee under the table and inclines his head toward my outfit. “You are stunning, by the way.”
