Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)(39)

Even with everything so fucked-up, I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.

Tonight I’m basking in being myself, and it feels good not worrying about calories or how everyone around me is perceiving my every move.

“Fair. That was amazing too. Plus, those fries are totally homemade.”

He tosses another one in his mouth, chewing and nodding appreciatively. “I think you’re right. Wanna play a game of pool before we go back and pass out?”

He juts his chin just past me, eyes catching on my shoulder. Again. As I turn to look at the pool table, I sneak a peek down at it to see if I spilled something there or have sprouted a long hair out of a mole or something.

Seeing that my skin is clear, I hum contemplatively as I catch sight of the pool table. It isn’t overly busy but it’s not empty either. There are people milling around, so that means witnesses to how bad I am at pool.

And I hate being bad at things. Hate failing. Hate losing. I’m competitive to my core.

“I don’t really know how.”

“Well, I’ll just have to show you.” Jasper pushes to stand, and with two steps, has rounded the table and hovers over me with one outstretched hand. He looks relaxed. The way his hair curls out of the back of his hat makes the tips of my fingers itch.

“I’m good. I’ll just watch you.”

He scoffs playfully. “Come on, Sunny. WWBD?”

“Huh?” My head tips to the side, and I eye his wide, warm palm skeptically.

“What would Beau do? WWBD.”

“I actually think that’s more of a tongue twister than just saying the sentence.”

His hand bounces in front of me. “Stop stalling. Let’s go. Beau would play pool even if he sucked at it. And he’d have fun sucking.”

I quirk a suggestive brow at Jasper. I’m sure that’s not how he meant it, but after several pints of shitty beer, it’s where my head goes.

His usually serious face immediately breaks out in a breathtaking smile as he glances across the room with a laugh. White teeth. Dimples hiding under his stubble. It’s impossible to look at Jasper smiling and not smile too.

Laughter bubbles in my throat, and I slap my palm into his as he pulls me up to standing. “Fine. But I’m going to suck.”

His tongue slides out over his lips almost suggestively, head shaking like I’m in trouble. Something about the combination makes an ache unfurl behind my hips. He is effortlessly sexy. Totally distracting.

“But you’re going to have fun doing it.” He points at me as he drops my hand and reaches for our beers before turning toward the empty pool table in the corner.

We’re toeing the line of this joke, even for us, but the alcohol coursing through my veins has me feeling bolder than usual.

“I always do!” I say cheerily to his broad back that presses rhythmically against the gray fabric of his shirt as he walks away, knowing I’ll follow because he has my beer and a killer ass.

I watch his head tip back at my words. A small prayer for patience, I’m sure. “Jesus Christ, Sunny.”

After setting our drinks on a tall table, he grabs two cues and turns toward me with a challenging glint in his eye. My heart flutters in my chest, and relief hits me like a tidal wave. I’ve been so damn worried about him. When he retreats into himself, he scares me. I worry that if he goes too far back—if he slips into those dark cracks—that he won’t come back out.

Or he won’t come back out the same. Broody and shy but sweet. Jasper Gervais is so damn sweet under his standoffish exterior that it almost makes my teeth ache.

That’s another side of him few people get to see. And I think I like that about him too. He doesn’t give his attention away willy-nilly. He doesn’t absently hum along to what you’re saying while scrolling on his phone. If you have Jasper Gervais’s attention, you’ve got it all, and that’s because he wants you to have it.

He doesn’t just listen to me. He hears me. He sees me.

And there’s something precious about that, the way he can look at someone and make them feel like the only person in the room. 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.

I’ve never known a soul more truly present.

The way he is? It speaks to me. It always has. He’s like a warm blanket that I want to wrap myself up in. And when his eyes are bright and his smile is soft like right now?

Forget it. He’s breathtaking.

“Ready to play?”

“Let’s do it.” My eyes widen. God. What is wrong with me? “Pool. Let’s do the pool.” I hold a hand up. “Play pool. Not do the pool. Ha.” I quickly reach for my beer and take a deep swig while Jasper chuckles at me.

Handsome fucking brain-cell-killing jerk.

“Do I need to cut you off?”

“Shut up, Gervais. Let’s play.”

Fire blazes in his eyes and he stares back at me. “Okay, Sloane. Let’s play.”





15

Sloane


Jasper: Why are you taking so long in there?

Sloane: Giving myself a drunk pep talk.

Jasper: What is that?

Sloane: It’s where I splash water on my face at myself in the mirror. Then I tell me to pull together and be cool.