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.

“Maybe if I drink enough of these”—I lift the six-pack, feeling a little loopy—“I’ll invite you to join me.”

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

“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.”

“I feel like I could crumble under the weight of not wanting to disappoint you. I’m paralyzed by my fear of losing you.”