Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)(42)

Hilariously, I’m cringing for me too.

Cringing all around.

Her eyes narrow and her shoulders shimmy. “He’s just playing hard to get.” She turns to Jasper with a slow, feline smile stretching at her lips. “But I’m patient. And I like to play.”

I snort in the most unladylike way, my alcohol consumption really coming out to play. But it’s like I’m watching myself from above. Little Sloane taking her toboggan down a slippery slope with no way to stop.

“Play what? Sexual harassment?”

The girl crosses her arms under her breasts, pushing them up again. And god, they really are big. I’ll readily admit I’m a little envious. “Rich coming from the girl who was just all pressed up against a man who isn’t her husband. Bet your real husband would love to know that you’re here whoring it up with an NHL player.”

One loud laugh erupts from my throat, and everyone looks at me, stunned. “Whoring it up?”

It’s funny. Sterling would absolutely use the term “whoring it up.”

I laugh again, and the girls stare at me like I’m fucked in the head.

And they’re not wrong.

The thought of Sterling knowing I’m on the road with Jasper, that we’re sharing a hotel room, playing pool and having fun, is suddenly deeply satisfying.

And hilarious.

I can vividly imagine the vein in his forehead throbbing and his meaty fingers curling in on themselves while he stomps his foot and demands I come home. Suddenly Sterling Woodcock is nothing more than a badly behaved, red-faced toddler in my head, and the image sends me right over the edge.

Laughter bubbles up slowly, and before I know it, I’m laughing hard enough that tears prick at my eyes.

Jasper shakes his head at me, but the amusement on his face is clear. He moves in and slings a long arm over my shoulders. “Time to go, Winthrop.” He turns to guide us away, the girls clearly confused as all get-out.

“No! I need to finish my Buddyz Best so I can round out my training as a connoisseur. And you need to sign that girl’s jugs so she can continue to pretend she wants your autograph when she just wants you to fondle her melons.”

The sound of a scoff and the sight of the girls turning to leave draws my attention momentarily. “I really hope she tracks Sterling down and tells him about this.”

Jasper’s laugh rumbles against me as he leads me to our coats, and it just makes me laugh harder. So satisfying. Even if I am making an ass of myself. I’m just past the point of caring. The point of caring was two beers ago.

“Sunny, you’re cut off, and all melons are going to remain in the produce section.”

“They were big, Jas. And so round.” I hold my hands up in front of me and mimic squeezing a set of breasts. “I’m a little jealous if I’m being honest. I’d kill for melons like that. Do you know which grocer carries them? I’d pay good money.”

He covers me in my coat and slings his over his arm before tossing cash on the table. Then I’m tucked up against him again and we’re walking out into the dark, frosty night. “You’re perfect the way you are, Sloane. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Usually I’d preen and overthink that sentence, but right now I just giggle.

“Are you saying my melons are nice?” I press my chest out and cup them.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble one of these days,” is how he responds.

“Would you sign my melons if I wanted you to?”

“I need to get you some water.”

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Gervais. Answer the question!”

“I don’t know, Sloane.” His breath puffs out in front of him as we walk the short path back to our hotel room. “It’s hard to imagine you ever asking me to do that because you know me so well. Really proved you understand how much I hate that shit by shooting from the hip like a total nut.”

My head whirls, and I lean on his sturdy form. “Or!” I hold one finger up triumphantly. “Shooting from the tits!”

“Lord, help me,” he groans.

“Like the ladies on Austin Powers! You know the ones. The bullet bras? Sooo cool.”

“Thanks for looking out for me, Sunny,” is all he responds with as he gives me a squeeze.

I rest my head against the edge of his shoulder. “Always, Jas. Plus, I think those girls really liked me.”





16

Jasper


Harvey: You kids got somewhere safe to spend the night?

Jasper: Yeah. Hotel in Rose Hill.

Harvey: Two rooms or one? ;)

Jasper: Don’t be weird. One room, two beds.

Harvey: I’m not weird. You’re the one with a crush on your cousin.

Jasper: She’s not my cousin.

Harvey: Ha! But you didn’t deny the crush.




Sloane is drunk.

Hilariously hammered. Totally unfiltered.

And leaning on me way harder than I ever imagined someone her size could.

Her soft giggles accompany the low hum of the yellowish neon lights above us in the hotel hallway, and she keeps stepping on my feet.

“You’re a ballerina. Aren’t you supposed to be graceful?”

She ignores me, tilting her head up in my direction. “Have you noticed that you have a zit right . . .” She pokes a spot right near my hairline that curves around my temple.