Everything is slow. Achingly slow. So representative of us in so many ways. But there’s also an edge of desperation in us both.
A hard bite to every movement.
My nipples pebble. My heart pounds. My body is alight. My hips roll again.
This time the hard length of him presses back. I whimper, aroused and relieved all at once. I’ve spent years thinking Jasper Gervais couldn’t want me, but right now his body tells another story.
And so do his words.
“Sunny, you’re gonna make me lose my mind.”
“Good,” I murmur against his mouth. “We’ll be insane together. I’m so tired of doing it alone.”
I’m ready to tear his clothes off and impale myself on him, here and now. I’m crazed. I feel more drunk than I did last night.
I kiss him again, pouring all the frustration and longing into him. And he gives it back tenfold. He bowls me over and steals the air right from my lungs.
And then he pulls me away. With one hand tight in my hair, he angles my head up to him and peers down at me. His eyes flit around every corner of my face as he assesses me.
He reads me like a fucking book and then tells me something I’ve longed to hear.
“You’re not alone. I’m right there with you.”
I let out a breath so big that my body sags when it leaves me.
“But this isn’t the time or place. It’s not safe. And you are too fucking precious to take chances with.”
Fuck my safety. If I died riding Jasper Gervais in the driver’s seat of this truck, I might be fine with that. What a way to go. Out with a bang, so to speak.
“When is the time and place?” I breathe out instead.
He ghosts a kiss over my damp, puffy lips and guides my ear to his mouth. “When I say so,” he rasps.
A shiver wracks my entire body. When I pull back, his eyes are dark again and they land on my lips, then my breasts, before roaming back up to my face.
He cups my head softly. “I’ll be right back. I need to check the brake attachment so I can get us back down this hill. Buckle up, just in case.”
I nod and he lifts me, depositing me in the passenger seat effortlessly.
He’s out the door and into the blowing snow without another word.
And I sit here, dumbstruck, hoping he’s okay. And taking an inventory of all the things it did to my body when he said, “When I say so.”
19
Jasper
Jasper: Bad roads. Brake issues. Spending the night in a town called Blisswater Springs.
Harvey: Do you win a prize for using as few words as possible? You guys okay? Can you elaborate?
Jasper: I’ll call you from the hotel. We’re all good. Safe. You don’t need to worry.
Harvey: Come on. Give me something. One bed or two?
Jasper: Talk to you later.
The tips of my fingers are tingling as intensely as the rest of my body. Sloane is silent and introspective beside me. When I got back into the truck, she stared at me with comically wide eyes, pressing her lips together either to hide a smile or to keep from saying something.
We’re safely back on the highway. The wiring is firmly in place with the connector, and I’m finding it easier to breathe—unless I think too hard about Sloane writhing in my lap, her ass grinding against my cock.
I’m still stopping at the closest mechanic to have the brake connector checked because that shouldn’t have come loose at all. According to Google, that means we’re spending some time in a town called Blisswater Springs.
“Are we just not going to talk anymore?” Sloane blurts, cutting the silence. “Like I know you’re generally not a big talker. But can we not be awkward about the . . .” Her hand flaps around in front of her.
“About the kiss?”
“Yeah. It was a stressful moment. A moment of insanity. We can be cool about it.”
I’ve thought about kissing Sloane for a long time now, whether or not I’ve wanted to admit it to myself.
In fact, she almost took the last name Woodcock for the rest of her life because I’ve spent so long thinking rather than doing anything about it.
This might not be the perfect moment for me to figure out my shit where Sloane Winthrop is concerned, but it is a moment. And if I’ve figured out anything in this Shakespearean tragedy of a life, it’s that life is just moments all strung together like multicolor Christmas lights. You always end up liking some colors better than others.
Joyful, tragic, peaceful, funny. Unforgettable moments, and moments we wish we could forget.
And kissing Sloane in this truck is not one of those. It’s a moment I fully intend to hang onto. In the past, I was told to stay away from her. In the past, I cared about that warning.
In this moment though? I don’t give a fuck.
“It wasn’t a moment of insanity,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Sorry?” She sounds incredulous.
“I definitely meant to kiss you.”
She scoffs, crossing her arms and turning beet red. “You were barely responsive mere seconds beforehand. You were in shock, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t need you to believe me for it to be true.”
I don’t know why after years of keeping my mouth shut, I’m now blurting this all out. Most likely, it’s because I saw our lives flash before my eyes back there. When I looked over at Sloane beside me and saw her beautiful blue eyes clamped shut, fingers gripping the seat, shoulders scrunched up to her ears, I realized it could be my last moment with her.
My last moment and she would never know what she is to me. How much she is to me. That she’s it for me. And that’s just fucking insane. Like a waste. Like for a man who knows loss so intimately, why would I ever set myself up to lose something so precious?
I think that’s the realization that hit me at the dinner where I watched Sloane sit beside a man who talked over her every chance he got. She was about to marry a piece of human chauvinist garbage, but she could have had me—if she wanted me.
If I’d just told her.
And she didn’t know because I was too stuck in my own my head to tell her. Too paralyzed by my fear of losing people I care about. Of losing her.
But fuck, losing someone and having them not know that you care about them? Wishing you could go back and tell them?
That’s a special hell. One I have no intention of living in because I’ve given my demons enough of myself already—they can’t have her too.
“I just almost married someone else.”
I nod brusquely, glancing over at her. She looks pissed, which is not the reaction I expected. But then, so am I. Because the mere mention of her marrying someone sends me into a hot, simmering rage so unlike me I don’t even know what to do with it.
“Yeah. That would have been a shame because he really fucking sucks.”
“Ha! Un-fucking-believable.” Her jaw pops, and she stares out the passenger window. “I’ve known you for what? Eighteen years? Almost half your life? And this . . . this feeling is just occurring to you now?”
A humorless laugh bubbles up out of her and she shakes her head. “Someone else came to play in your sandbox and you got all territorial after years of not giving me a second look? Love that for me. I’m not a fire hydrant for you to piss on, Jasper.” Her hands shoot up beside her head. “Like . . . I’m supposed to buy that you’ve just had some sort of awakening and your childhood friend is suddenly hella kissable these days? God. That’s hilarious. If I didn’t like you so much, I’d kick you in the balls for this.”