Page 34 of Powerless
“Jasper, why are you so angry about this?” She looks confused. “I’m fine.”
“I’m angry because I want you happy and safe. You weren’t. I pulled away when I found out you were engaged.” What I don’t admit out loud is that my feelings were too jumbled and complicated to face in the wake of that announcement. It winded me in a way I never saw coming. “But you still needed my help, and I wasn’t there for you. You came so damn close to being trapped in a life that would have been miserable for you.”
This last week has put me into a state where I’m practically frothing at the mouth to protect her, to rescue her—to ensure she never ends up in that position again. And I’m realizing that what I’m feeling is a whole lot more than a brotherly sense of protection.
It’s envy. It’spossession.
“Jasper.” Her eyes are like saucers, her hands held wide as she lifts them and drops them back down in an exhausted shrug. She steps closer, eyes roaming my face. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m here. With you.” Her fingers slide over my hand still fisted on the pillow, and she locks in on my eyes. “It’s just you and me. Together. And I’m safe.”
I offer her a terse nod. It’s all I can manage right now. My limbs are seized up. Too many emotions. Her body too close.
“Move over.”
My head flicks in her direction. “What?”
“Move your ass over.”
“Why?”
Those pale blue irises roll back into her head with so much attitude. It reminds me of her as a teenager. “Because I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”
My body goes rigid. “Why?”
“Because I’m concerned for the safety of the walls in this room.” The voice she uses is light, but her eyes are just a bit pinched.
Sloane’s not worried about the walls. She’s worried aboutme.It’s why she used to come out on the roof with me too. She’s always been a little uncertain if I would take a turn in that direction.
If I’d hurt myself.
Sure, I’ve contemplated suicide. But mostly in the way everyone has. What it would take. If I could follow through. In the wake of Jenny’s death, I’d toed that ledge, but ever since the Eatons took me in, it was never an option.
I know how it feels to lose someone you love, and I couldn’t do that to these people who’ve become my family. I’ll suffer before ever making them do the same.
“Why?” I ask, wanting validation in a moment of weakness. Wanting to hear her say she worries about me or wants to comfort me. It’s insecure and I shouldn’t be hoping for something like that from a woman whose relationship dissolved mere days ago.
Her responding sigh is tired. “You’re glitching, Gervais. You sound like a scratched record. Move the fuck over.”
One cheek twitches at the fact that she resorted to swearing at me. There’s something satisfying about proper little Sloane having a sailor’s mouth. So I move over, not letting myself think too hard about whether it’s a good idea. We’re just friends.
My eyes flutter shut at the sound of the sheet rustling, the small mattress dipping under her weight.
Just friends.
A few strands of her hair tangle in the stubble on my cheek as she lays down facing me, but I leave them there, opting to breathe her in instead.
“Well, this bed is tiny.”
I chuckle. “It is.” The bed usually feels too small for my six-foot-three frame, never mind adding in another person.
The silence stretches out just a little too long. A little too far.
“Am I bugging you? Do you want me to leave?”
My heart slams against the cage I keep it locked in. How could Sloane bug anyone? She has to be the least annoying person in the world.
“No,” I husk as I reach down and wrap my hand around her delicate wrist, as though pulling her back from even thinking about leaving.
“Okay,” she breathes, sounding relieved.
