Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)

by Elsie Silver

What I don’t realize is that I’ll be fighting the urge to stare at Jasper Gervais for years to come.

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.”

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 . .

“That’s probably what you tell all the girls, Gervais.” “Nah, Sunny. You’re my only girl.”

The world is dark, but she’s like the moon when we sat on the roof. Bright and pure, shedding a silvery light over everything so that I can still see where I’m going.

Everything in the world feels wrong. But standing here with Sloane in my arms feels right.

I’d kill to have Jasper Gervais tell me what to do. The fact he doesn’t think he should makes me want it even more.

Because I’ve been staring at Jasper Gervais since I was ten years old, and suddenly . . . he’s staring back.

He’s not showy, he’s not the life of the party, but he knows how to make a person feel special, to feel loved and cared for.

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.

I hate losing . . . and yet, to see him smile like that, I’d lose over and over again.