Page 42 of Jasper

“Jasper, you’re not going to put me off or shock me into letting this go. I’m serious. You said you didn’t know why you’d screwed up. I think you do.”

His entire profile changed, and he lost all hint of the man she’d come to know. He turned colder. She could feel it from here.

“This is not up for discussion, Sloane.”

“Did something happen while you were serving?”

“Leave it alone.”

She pulled her backbone out of hiding and sat up, mimicking his aggressive posture.

“I will not. You know me well enough to know by now I’m too stubborn for my own good. I’m just going to keep asking until you tell me.”

“Why do you care?”

“Honestly, I don’t know, but I do.”

Jasper wanted to stand and walk out of the house before he said something they’d both regret. His asshole gene was trying to rear its head, and he was fighting not to give in to it. Being rude and dismissive would be easy right now, but he could see she really was only trying to help him.

Bringing those memories back up wouldn’t help him, though. Hell, they might just send him to the nearest liquor bottle to drown them back out.

“Did something happen while you were in the Marines, Jasper?”

Her soft, melodic voice intruded into his dark thoughts just enough to keep him from falling over the edge.

“It’s not something you want to hear. Hell, it’s something I don’t want to think about.”

“Tell me.” She scooted closer until her knees bumped against his. “It’s easier when you talk to someone.”

“It wasn’t me. It was my brother.”

He wanted to slap himself. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out. He blamed her and her damn kissable lips right up in his personal space. She was a distraction.

She reached out and took his hand, her flesh warm against his suddenly cold skin. “Tell me.”

He shook his head. Those were dark memories, memories he wanted no part of.

“I can’t.”

“You can.” She smiled encouragingly.

He closed his eyes, and the sounds of the helicopter blades flooded his hearing. The smell of the desert heat invaded his nose. The stink of blood, sweat, and urine came rushing back, overpowering him.

“I…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“My dad killed himself three days before my birthday. I found him.”

Jasper sucked in a breath, not expecting that. “What?”

“It took me years to talk about that too, but once I did, it helped. It was hard, but I promise you, talking helps you start to heal.”

He looked away, doing his best not to snap at her. She’d shared something very painful with him and didn’t deserve his anger. Well, maybe she did for trying to force him to talk about his feelings, but he wouldn’t do that to her.

“If I can tell you about the worst moment of my life, then you can tell me about yours.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me that. You offered it up,” he countered, trying to find a way out of this conversation.

Sloane wasn’t about to let him get out of this. He saw that the second she leaned forward, a fire in her expression he’d only seen once before.

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