Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)(91)

A small smile plays across Winter’s impassive face, and she shrugs, crossed arms rising and falling as she does. “I suppose I could drink to that.”

“Heck yeah!” Summer whoops. “I’ll give Wils a call, and we can meet her at Le Pamplemousse.”





“Here, have another one.” Willa pushes a mimosa across the table toward me in the charming, sunlit, Parisian-style cafe, drawing my attention off of Rosewood Street, the main thoroughfare in Chestnut Springs.

“I already have one.” I tip my champagne flute at her.

She points to my opposite hand. “Yeah, but that hand is empty. And I’m not going to drink it. I’m pregnant.” She rolls her eyes like I’m dumb and places the glass so it brushes up against the tips of my fingers.

“Why did you order it then?” I don’t fight it. I curl my fingers around the stem of the glass and bring it closer.

Willa shrugs with a light laugh. “I dunno, wanted to be part of the boozy brunch.”

Winter arches a brow from beside her. “You’re literally here. At boozy brunch. What more do you need?”

Willa stares longingly at my double-fisted mimosas. “Booze. Obviously.”

“What about some orange juice in a champagne flute?” Summer offers sweetly.

Willa makes a groaning noise. “That’s just offensive.”

My eyes bounce between the three women, and I realize I’m already feeling more human. Smiling isn’t the Herculean effort it felt like earlier.

Winter takes a deep swig. “This drink tastes fantastic. I should do this more often.”

Willa’s elbow nudges her side. “Fuck yeah, you should.”

Summer nods before shyly adding, “I like having you out here, Winter.”

I lift my glass across the table. “I’ll cheers to that. I could use a little Winter inspiration. I watched you dress Theo down the other night, and I need to channel that with the men in my life.”

She clinks her glass against mine, but her head tilts. “I’m not sure I’m someone to aspire to in the man department.” I quirk a brow, eyes dropping to the ring on her finger. She notices and just says, “Yeah. That.”

“When is that ending?” Willa asks it so casually, like ending a marriage is cut and dry. I don’t know all the dirty details of Winter’s marriage, but I know it’s complicated as hell. I also know that she and Summer are on fragile footing and spending time together like this is new for them.

They all came out for me, but it’s clear that having Willa and me here gives some extra padding between the sisters.

Winter takes another deep slug, draining the flute. “Who fucking knows? I think dragging it out makes him hard or something.” Summer coughs like her mimosa went down the wrong tube. Winter doesn’t seem to notice though. The alcohol must have her feeling loose already. She tips her head tips in my direction. “Sloane’s idea of hiding out in Chestnut Springs is sounding really, really appealing. Where do I sign up for this?”

I push my spare mimosa across the table to her, and she takes it without saying a single word. The closer I look at Winter, the more I think she might need the drinks more than I do.

I feel wrung out, but she seems profoundly tired, like my one sleepless night is her norm.

“Wanna rent a house here?” I ask. “I’m in the process of updating a few across the road from Summer’s gym.”

That lights Winter’s face up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I can show you after this boozy brunch.”

“Jasper’s houses, huh?” Summer asks curiously.

“Yeah, why don’t you tell us more about that,” Willa urges.

I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear and drop my eyes. “Well, he actually owns the entire block. I’ve been painting and—”

Willa waves a hand. “No, no, no. Tell us about Jasper.”

“Yeah!” Winter holds up her glass. “Tell us why you were lying on the floor for like an hour.”

Summer reaches under the table and gives my knee a squeeze, always so sweet.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Can you at least tell us if Jasper has a huge dick?” Willa leans across the table.

I nod.

Winter snorts.

Summer gasps.

“I knew it!”

Summer gives Willa a chiding look, widening her eyes at her best friend. “Why don’t you start at the beginning, Sloane?”

I flop back in my chair and stare at the three women sitting with me. “Well, I’d have to go back to the very first time I laid eyes on him when I was ten years old.”

A communal whoosh of air leaves everyone’s lungs. I lift my glass. “Yeah. Cheers to that, right? A decades long unrequited crush. Except I recently found out it wasn’t so unrequited.”

Willa’s hand rolls in the air. “Hence the whole runaway-bride-shacking-up-with-her-friend thing, yeah?”

My head tips back and forth. “I mean, yeah. It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“What’s the issue?” Willa seems confused.

“Yeah, what’d he do?” Bitterness bleeds into Winter’s voice.

“He didn’t do anything. That’s the problem. He just froze. He had this perfect moment to tell me everything. And he just froze. He’s so broken. Locked up so damn tight. And I know the reasons why. I don’t even really blame him. I just . . . I wanted to be enough for him to push past it.”