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And for Sloane I keep every promise, no matter how badly they hurt.
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.
“If you call Willa a girl, she’ll castrate you,” Cade grumbles, yanking the tie off and shoving it into his suit coat pocket. “She’s going to castrate you for not wearing the tie she picked out.” Rhett chuckles. “She’ll get over it when I tie her up with it later.”
He’s always been my gentle giant.
she doesn’t shy away from my darkness—after all, she’s my Sunny.
“That’s probably what you tell all the girls, Gervais.” “Nah, Sunny. You’re my only girl.”
“Adorable coming from the guy who wears his jeans at least two sizes too small.” I give Cade a big, cheesy grin, loving the feel of something that isn’t just sad. “Willa likes them tight.” I quirk a brow. “How long does it take her to peel them off of you? My money is on at least five minutes.” “Bring your timer. You can watch next time, could probably teach your dumb ass a thing or two.”
Sloane: He’s sad. He’ll be okay. Willa: You should bang him.
Summer: She just fled her wedding. Willa: Yeah, but that fucking guy sucked. Jasper has that hot, tortured vibe going for him. Sloane: He’s sad. Not horny, Willa. Willa: He can be both. Turn that frown upside down, baby girl!
A heat that suffuses my entire body when he finally responds with, “Every fucking day, Sunny.”
“No. It’s in the car. And it’s one of my favorite things.”
“It’s your eyes.”
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? Jasper: My person.
