Page 76 of Memories By the Shore
He pauses at the door. “My house. I have a fully stocked kitchen.”
I would love to see Jasper’s house. To be in his space, smell, and be engulfed by him sounds like heaven. “Can I go with you?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Now
Avery
Ijump off the bed and slide on my sandals, then grab the only light jacket that I brought with me. He follows close behind me as we head down the hallway. Taking an unexpected right, he quickly locks my front door from the inside.
With my hand on the knob of the back door, I give him a quick side-eye, wondering why he needed to make sure it was locked.
“You can never be too careful,” he says with a grin.
“Is your town not safe, Mr. Mayor?” I play.
“Maybe I want to make sure you never leave again.”
I roll my eyes with exaggeration. Jasper is close behind when I walk out the door onto the sand. The cool night breeze whips past me, carrying a potent feeling of nostalgia.
“Cold?” he asks, wrapping an arm around me before I can respond.
I tuck my head into his chest, smiling to myself. Fuck, it feels good to be in his arms.Mentally, I never left.
We walk along the beach past only two homes before we arrive at his. Following Jasper up the steps of the patio and through double blue doors, I glance over my shoulder at the reflection of the total white moon over the black ocean water.
Endless.Infinity.
“Come on in.” He smiles, stepping aside to let me enter.
At first, the house looked similar in layout to most of the beach houses along this side of the shore, but then I caught sight of an industrial-style spiral staircase in the corner by the front door. While Jasper walks around, turning on a few lights, I take in his home. He has dark furniture, a little nicer than what you’d usually see this close to the water. It looks like him.
“Three stories?” I ask, pointing at the stairs.
He nods, removing two pots from underneath the counter. “The living space is on the first floor, the bedrooms and bathrooms are on the second, and then the third floor is an open loft.”
“All that space for just you?” I say, walking over to the countertop bar.
He arches a brow in my direction. “With all that money your parents left you, I’d bet you have a large penthouse in the city.”
Embarrassed by being called out, my cheeks burn. “Yeah. I do.”
“I knew it.” He continues grabbing ingredients from the fridge and pantry. “And you’re probably working and barely spending any of it, right?”
Bashfully, I rub my lips together, fighting a smile. “You don’t know me.”
“I think I do.” He flirts, making my stomach flutter.
Jasper and I spend the next hour cooking and talking. A delicate dance of avoiding bringing up any topic that might kick up our past, we both seem to settle in living in a dreamland.
It’s nearly midnight, and now I’m sitting across the table from Jasper, eating pancakes and scrambled eggs. Twelve hours ago, I could have never predicted we’d end up here. We’ve exchanged multiple gazes that carry more weight than justthanks for breakfast.The temptation to have him one more time has exponentially grown.
I rise from the table, feeling overheated. “Do you want me to take that into the kitchen?”
“Thanks,” he says, handing me his plate.
I take it from him and make a beeline for the other room.I need to get out of here. Being in his house clouds my mind. I set both plates into the sink, then turn on the water. I let it run briefly, planning to grab the rest of the dishes from the counter, but I feel the warmth of Jasper’s hands clutching my waist. His front is flush with my back.
