Page 133 of Powerless
“You’ve looked at me likethisfor so damn long. And I don’t know when I started looking back, only that I did. Forcing myself to look away for so many years has been a special kind of torture. I’ve tortured myself for long enough. I’m done hiding, done missing out on this. On us.”
A quiet sob leaps from her lips, and she presses her head into the center of my chest.
“Sloane, I won’t go without you.”
“You’ve never been without me, Jasper. Not since the first day I laid eyes on you.”
My heart cracks at her admission, and she presses in closer. Like she knows she fits there. Like she knows she belongs there. Filling in all the cracks where I break.
I hold her tight and rest my cheek on the crown of her head.
“I’m sorry you’re the only thing that’s ever made me feel whole again. I’m sorry I’ve needed so much from you. Sunny, I’m sorry I’m so damn late. But thank you for waiting.”
Her hand slides into my suit jacket and she palms the ballerina tattoo on my ribs. “You showed up right on time.” She peeks up at me. “Have you been staying in one of the empty houses?”
My lips twitch. “Maybe.”
“Is there a bed?”
I shrug. “An air mattress.”
“Jasper!” She groans my name, but her voice is amused too.
“What? I don’t like being away from you. In fact, I would have been earlier. But I had to pick up your birthday present.”
“You bought me a birthday present?” Her eyes light.
“Of course I brought you a birthday present. What kind of asshole shows up to his girlfriend’s birthday dinner without a gift?”
She quirks an eyebrow at me and we both smile. “Girlfriend?”
“Of course.”
Then from within my pocket, I press the button on the key fob and the SUV behind me blinks to life with a soft beeping noise.
Sloane’s gaze hits the white Volvo and then slices back to me. “You bought me a car?”
“Safest one I could find. They’ve done the crash tests and—”
“Jasper,” she giggles my name. “I trust you. I’ll take your word for it. I . . . I love it.”
“I know you mostly walk everywhere in the city.” I clear my throat, feeling suddenly bashful. “But I want you to have something safe for your commute.”
“My commute, huh?” She’s grinning now. It’s infectious.
“Yeah. From our house in Chestnut Springs. You’ll need a safe car to get into the city for work. And you need your freedom to go wherever you want. Do whatever you want.”
At that, her eyes fill. She blinks, and a lone tear rolls down over her cheek.
“You just get me, you know that?” Her head wags gently. “You always have.”
Everything aches—my heart, my throat, my chest—so I do the only thing that I can think of to make it hurt less. “I love you, Sloane Winthrop. I always have. I love you so damn hard I don’t even know what to do with it. You’re my person. And I think I’m yours too.”
“You havealwaysbeen my person,” she chokes out. “I love you so much.”
I don’t pause. I don’t think twice. I tilt her head up and I kiss her.
In the middle of a busy street for the whole damn world to see while snow falls around us. In the exact spot she walked away from me once before.
