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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.”
Anxiety unfurls in my chest, spreading through my veins like wildfire and transforming into blind panic. I feel like a cornered animal.
“That’s probably what you tell all the girls, Gervais.” “Nah, Sunny. You’re my only girl.”
I drift off staring at the crystal-blue water. Daydreaming about the girl with crystal-blue eyes.
“I always worry about you, Jas.”
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? ...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
Willa: High five. I love it when Cade gives me a facial. Summer: Good god. Sloane: That is . . . not what I meant.
“It means meeting someone who actually likes me for who I am and not what I am feels downright impossible at this point in my career.
I can be a person who really knows who he is rather than what he is.
“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.”
I kiss him again, pouring all the frustration and longing into him. And he gives it back tenfold. He bowls me over and steals the air right from my lungs.
And then he pulls me away. With one hand tight in my hair, he angles my head up to him and peers down at me. His eyes flit around every corner of my face as he assesses me. He reads me like a fucking book and then tells me something I’ve longed to hear.
“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.”
“You and Jasper. You’ve both been so in love with each other for so long. I saw that hug. Plus, I saw the look on his face that day when I first spilled the beans about your engagement. And on your wedding day?”
“I feel like I could crumble under the weight of not wanting to disappoint you. I’m paralyzed by my fear of losing you.”
“Tell me you’re mine, Sloane.” His thrusts slow, and the look he gives me shows a flash of insecurity. One that doesn’t need to be there. Without hesitation I say the words. “I’m yours, Jasper. I always have been.”
