The Rivals of Copper County (Copper County #2)

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

WATT

I’m not going to the dock to meet Jasper , I told myself firmly as I handed over a couple of U-Pick bags to a family who’d come down from Fairport for a day of apple picking, then rang up another customer for a jug of fresh cider before heading over to the hose to rinse out their baskets.

I’m not .

I’d begun reciting those words when I’d stepped onto the back porch to do morning chores and found an antique house-shaped tin of muffins sitting by the door, along with a Post-it note that said “*FRIENDLY* PEACE OFFERING? Can we talk tonight? Our usual spot?”

Ignoring the happy rush I’d gotten when I’d recognized Jasper’s handwriting, I’d glanced around the property—at the bright leaves and the early morning fog on the lake just beginning to burn off, at the fields and gardens separating my property from Wrigley Campground sparkling in dew. The driveway gate had remained closed, and Jasper hadn’t been around, but the muffins in the tin had still been warm, leading me to wonder where he’d gotten them so early in the day .

I am not going to the dock , I’d told myself immediately, though the idea had been tempting. Jasper’s peace offering game had picked up—he probably didn’t remember, but I freaking loved a pumpkin muffin, and these particular muffins were phenomenal. As I’d read the note in Jasper’s playful, hopeful voice, I’d considered all the burning questions I had about the parts of his life I’d missed out on and the way he remembered our last day together all those years ago.

I’d actually thought to myself, What’s the worst that could happen ?

The answer was right there in the question, though. The worst that could happen was me getting a happy rush at seeing Jasper’s note, at him calling the dock “our spot,” at thinking that the answers to those questions would fix things… when the man had walked away before and was leaving town again in a matter of months.

I had no interest in a temporary friendship.

I’d set the muffins in the kitchen, crumpled the note, and gone to do my chores.

But as I’d organized a new shipment of fruit-picking poles, I’d remembered almost laughing with him against my will in front of Principal Schmidt and how the warm light shining in his eyes had made me as foolish as it ever had. I’d even found myself wondering what Jasper was doing at that particular moment—off terrorizing another unsuspecting Coppertian at Lyon’s Imperial on a Sunday morning? Learning about hockey from Tam? Or had he simply gone back to bed after dropping off the muffins?—and that… that was when things had gone awry.

My barn had a clear line of sight to the Wrigleys’ campground, and I hadn’t been able to resist looking over at the house on the hill. I’d noticed that the window in the bedroom that used to be Jasper’s was wide open, the curtain fluttering in the breeze. And I’d, you know, imagined him up there… as you do… sprawled on the big brass bed fast asleep.

Except then I’d wondered what if he wasn’t asleep. What if he was doing something else entirely on this sunny Sunday with his window wide open?

And now, as I hosed out the harvest baskets, my hands grasped the sprayer as I returned to imagining Jasper like that, stark naked, blond hair mussed, one big hand wrapped around his cock. My breath went a little wonky imagining his legs moving restlessly as he pleasured himself, and my cock pushed restlessly against my jeans as I imagined his gorgeous face flushed with need, his head thrown back against the pillows, his?—

“Heya, Watt! Got my Jonagolds?” Martha Cushman asked with a merry smile.

My hand spasmed around the sprayer handle, shooting a long arc of water directly into the side of the barn, our electric utility vehicle, a stack of recently rinsed harvest baskets, and, finally, my boots.

Martha blinked at me. “Uh… sorry to startle you?”

“Ah, n-no problem.” I managed a wan smile despite the cold water soaking through my socks, causing me to half break out in goose bumps. “Just, ah… remembering the Bills’ big victory against the Pats last weekend. Let me help you with your apples.”

“I’ve got it.” Derry appeared from wherever he’d been hiding all afternoon and gave Martha a smile. “Over here, Ms. Cushman.” He pointed toward one of the large sheds.

“Aw. Thank you, Dermott.” She gave him a fond smile and followed where he led. “You’re every bit as helpful as your father.”

Derry turned and eyed me up and down, landing on my soaked boots. “Yeah,” he said flatly. “Dad’s real helpful.”

When he turned away, I winced. Derry hadn’t been pleased by my interference at practice and, if possible, was even less pleased that I’d agreed to coach the team “without even talking to me, Dad!” Our ride home Friday had been decidedly chilly—nearly as chilly as my damp jeans now—and things hadn’t improved. He’d one-word-answered me when he wasn’t avoiding me like the plague, so I hadn’t had a chance to explain myself… not that I had any explanation beyond “I briefly lost my mind.”

And that was why I was not — definitely not —going to be meeting Jasper.

In the past week, my calm, settled life had descended into a chaos of challenge, longing, and irrationality. I hardly recognized myself.

I refused to think about Jasper as I smiled, shook hands, and sprayed peppermint oil deer repellent around the property all afternoon. I continued not thinking about Jasper as I threw together burgers and sweet potatoes for me and Derry, as the two of us ate in silence, and as I flopped on my sofa to watch football alone.

Unfortunately, like not thinking about elephants, all this not thinking about Jasper meant I thought of little else. By the time I heard a rustling noise through my open window as I lay in bed, I was too keyed up to ignore it.

“I’m not going to the dock. I’m getting rid of those fucking deer,” I muttered as I got out of bed, dressed in clean clothes and a jacket, combed my hair—deer cared about good hygiene—and headed out back .

Surprising no one, I paused just long enough to see the light in Jasper’s window before heading out to the lake.

I’ll tell him I’m not interested in talking or friendship offerings , I told myself. More efficient than ignoring him.

It was almost a relief when I found myself trudging over the moonlit grass toward him, like I’d held a heavy weight for hours and was finally, inevitably surrendering to gravity. The trees whispered in the starlight when I reached the edge of the wooded path that led across the campground from the Wrigleys’ Craftsman house to the dock, and the loons on the water gave long, mournful wails.

“If he’s not there, I’ll go home,” I muttered under my breath. “And that will be fine. Better, even. If he’s not there, I’ll win.”

When I paused at the edge of the woods that ringed the lake, though, I saw Jasper was there, his sexy body wrapped in a quilt and his face glowing soft silver. He sat facing the guardrail that ran along one side of the dock, the way we’d sat as kids. His booted feet dangled above the water, his chest leaned against the crossbar, and his head rested against one of the tall, worn pilings. He looked… not sad, exactly, but resigned. Weary, even… which might be true, given what Principal Schmidt had said about how many hours he was putting in.

He’s not yours to worry about. You’re not even friends anymore.

But I was the world’s biggest idiot because I felt his weary resignation in my own chest, and I suddenly couldn’t stand to see him alone.

I took a step toward him before I could rethink, and my foot broke a branch with a loud crack . Jasper turned his head eagerly .

“Watt?”

“Yeah.” My boots clomped hollowly across the worn wood of the dock. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes! Yeah. I… I wasn’t sure you were coming.” He scrambled around, trying to get to his feet and getting caught in the blanket instead.

I made a stay gesture with my hands and stepped up to the railing beside him. “I wasn’t.” I rubbed my thumb over my lips. That wasn’t quite the truth… and somehow, it felt like cheating to lie. “I wanted to, but I also didn’t.”

“No.” Jasper’s face fell. “Well. Can’t say I blame you.” He wiped his hands on his jeans. “Can you… will you sit? I have cocoa in this thermos.”

“No, thanks. I assume you want to talk before practice tomorrow. To figure out how co-coaching is going to work?—”

“Yes. Definitely. But I also wanted to clear the air. About us. I… Hang on.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocked it, pulled up a note, and cleared his throat. “First, Watt, I’d like to thank you for meeting with me tonight. I don’t believe I ever adequately expressed to you when we were younger just how much your friendship meant to me?—”

I snorted. “Hold up. You wrote me a speech?”

“Not a speech. Notes .” He scowled up at me by the light of his phone. “I wanted to make sure I got it right, okay? I suck at improvising, and our last couple conversations have gone off the rails.”

Rolling my eyes, I surrendered again and sank to my ass on the wood with my knees bent. “Funny, I remember you being damn good at improvising. Remember the time you explained to my sister for two full, timed minutes why pineapples made the best pets? ”

Jasper’s bark of laughter seemed to be startled out of him. “Shut up. That was the worst dare. Poor Iris.”

“She believed you were totally sincere. My mom still talks about it sometimes. When Derry and I were down in Costa Rica visiting my parents over spring break?—”

“Costa Rica?”

“Yup. They retired there when I bought them out of the orchard. And then Iris’s husband got transferred to Des Moines… maybe three years ago now?” I said after a pause. “Anyway, my mom made fruit salad in a pineapple half for breakfast, and Derry said pineapple’s good, but not as good as mango. Without missing a beat, my mom leaned over and cupped her hand around the pineapple fronds like the fruit had ears. ‘ Dermott , hush ,’” I said in my mom’s voice, “‘ Spike can hear you. ’ And Derry said, ‘ Holy crap, Grandma, who is in this salad? ’—”

He laughed harder.

So did I.

“Oh God!” Jasper collapsed against the dock beside me, wiping his eyes. “Did you explain?”

“Not… exactly.” I hesitated. “I told him it was a joke, but…” I lifted one shoulder.

Jasper sobered. “You never talked to Derry about me, did you?”

I shook my head slowly.

“Right.” He sighed. “And that’s my fault. I fucked it all up.” He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. “I’m truly sorry, Watt. That’s what I wanted to say to you. I shouldn’t have kissed you that day. I knew better. I just… I liked you so much. Which isn’t an excuse,” he added quickly. “We had a rule, and I broke it?—”

“No,” I cut him off. “ You didn’t. I don’t get why you’re saying that.”

“Uh…” He ran a hand over his face. “Because it’s true?”

“I was there, remember? If you’re trying to make me feel worse by pretending to take responsibility for something I did?—”

“I’m not pretending. I kissed you?—”

“ I kissed you ,” I said hotly. “And we both know it. We were sitting on the shore across the lake by the Observatory House, doing a stupid dare about who could make the other spit water first?—”

“Yup, and I kept going for your ribs like I was going to tickle you.” Jasper sat up and darted a hand toward my chest in demonstration.

I grabbed his wrist and held it firmly. “Yes, and I kept acting like I was trying to head-butt you—” I moved forward and angled my head at his.

“And since I knew from experience how hard your damn head is, I bobbed and weaved like Muhammed Ali—” He wiggled his head up and down like he was pecking at my chest.

“Muhammed Ali?” I snort-laughed. “More like a deranged chicken. But then you angled your head up?—”

Jasper turned his head to frown up at me, and I got hit with a whiff of sweetness and woodsmoke that made my gut clench.

“Yeah, like that,” I said softly. “And your eyes were… were right there ?—”

“My eyes?” Jasper blinked like he’d forgotten what eyes were. “My eyes weren’t doing anything special. It was you. You licked your lips like— ungh ,” he said roughly, eyes transfixed on my face. “Exactly like that.”

“My skin felt like it was on fire.” My breath came faster now, recalling it. “My brain was staticky, and I couldn’t think?— ”

“Your tongue worried at the corner of your mouth the way it does when you’re thinking hard. Yeah, that’s it.” Jasper’s exhale was hot against my cheek, and my mouth tingled where he stared at it.

“And I…” I whispered.

“And I…” Jasper breathed.

“I kissed you,” Jasper and I said together.

We pulled back simultaneously.

“No!” we cried in unison. “I did!”

“You waved your arms, Watt.” Jasper threw his arms out to the side and made a rolling motion. “You were trying to get away!”

“I wanted to grab you and was trying not to! You know the kiss was my idea,” I insisted. “That’s why you were so horrified that when you heard Abe yelling for you, you ran off without a word. That’s why you never called me from California?—”

“You know it was me !” he returned. “That’s why you were so angry when you saw me at the grocery store, you Hulk-smashed a huge flock of paper turkeys, and now O’Leary will have to cancel Thanksgiving!”

We blinked at each other.

“I wasn’t angry when I saw you the other day. I felt…” I cut myself off with a headshake. Like I was seventeen and wanted to kiss you again might be true, but not helpful at the moment. “It was a shock, seeing you again.”

Jasper groaned and fell back against the dock with one hand over his eyes. “Watt, I couldn’t say goodbye properly. My mom made me leave?—”

“Yeah, Mabel told me when I went to see you and apologize the next morning.” I hunched my shoulders as a chill breeze blew across the water. “She said your parents were splitting—and God , was she angry that they were dragging you into it. She said, ‘ Jasper’ll call you as soon as he can, Watt, ’cause he’ll need you. Friendships like yours are the steady hands that lift you when life’s too hard to carry alone .’ One of her Mabel truisms.” I huffed. “Not so true for us, though, huh?”

“I wanted to call,” he said softly. “So many times. But I was scared. To explain why I’d kissed you, I’d have had to tell you I was gay and admit I’d had a crush on you?—”

“And you thought I’d be mad about that?” I demanded, legitimately horrified. “You were my best friend, asshole. I thought you hung the goddamn moon. Did you really think I’d be homophobic? Me?”

“No!” The word was muffled beneath his arm. “I didn’t think me being gay would make you angry. Me admitting that I’d been crushing on you, though? I didn’t know. Sometimes you’d overthink things. And it’s one thing to know your friend likes guys but another to wonder whether he’s been jerking off while thinking about you, you know?”

The arousal that had been rising steadily since the moment Jasper had come back to Copper County slammed into me like a tidal wave, stealing my breath and turning my muscles to jelly. All the blood in my body rushed toward my dick, and my earlier daydream swirled through my mind like a motel TV stuck on a single, relentless channel.

Had he been thinking of me? The question was halfway to my lips before I caught it back.

It wasn’t until I noticed Jasper peeking out from beneath his arm uncertainly that I realized I hadn’t responded.

“I wouldn’t have been angry.” Lust made the words come out gritty and harsh. Utterly unconvincing. I swallowed and tried again. “I mean, clearly, I wouldn’t since I was the one who kissed you. ”

Jasper sat up, which put him right beside me. Heat flooded my arm where it brushed against his. “You really think that? Does that mean… are you gay?”

“No.” After a beat, I added, “I mean, I’m not not gay.”

“Okay?” His forehead wrinkled, then quickly smoothed again. “Oh! You’re bi? Or pan?”

“No. I mean, sort of. I…” I shook my head quickly. At thirty-seven, it felt ridiculous that I didn’t have a solid handle on my sexuality other than “I want who I want with no rhyme or reason,” and I refused to discuss it with Jasper. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay.” Jasper hesitated for a beat. “I, ah, heard from Mabel that you were married to a woman.”

“Yes. And divorced.” Thinking about Rachel and our failed marriage wasn’t hurtful anymore, but it was a total erection killer. I told myself this was a good thing. “A friend and I hooked up sophomore year of college—you know, one of those wild and crazy, meaningless college hookups you hear about?” I gave him a wry look. “She got pregnant.”

“Ah.” Jasper seemed to hear some of the stuff I wasn’t saying—the weight of the decisions we’d had to make, the terror of getting it wrong, the guilt of even remembering those negative emotions when I’d gotten an amazing kid out of the deal—because he leaned over to gently squeeze my knee. “Sometimes you need to take a wrong turn to get where you’re supposed to be—that’s another Mabelism for you. Personally, I’ve had my fill of wrong turns at this point,” he joked. “From now on, I’d like a neatly labeled Google map, please and thank you.”

His support and gentle teasing made me irrationally angry, both at him—where had he been when my nineteen-year-old self had needed comfort?—and at myself for giving a shit. I felt more exposed than if he’d noticed the semi I’d been sporting earlier.

I quickly changed the subject. “You said you’re in town for a couple months, right?”

Jasper pulled his knees to his chest, looping his arms around them. “Yeah. Tam’s baby’s due next month, and then she’ll be off for a while. So I guess… until the end of her maternity leave.”

“And you can just abandon your life in LA for that long? Do models take sabbaticals?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t actually modeled for years.”

I frowned. I supposed it made sense, though. It had been a long time since Mabel had shown me any new pictures. “What have you been doing, then? Please don’t say attempting to teach hockey to unsuspecting Californians.”

Jasper bumped his arm into mine. “If I had , I would have kicked ass at it. But no, I was running a modeling agency with my ex…” His expression darkened. “Until I learned how comprehensively Martin and his new boyfriend, Emilio, had screwed me over.”

“‘Screwed you over’? You mean he cheated on you?” I literally couldn’t imagine such a thing. If the man had Jasper in his bed and Jasper’s ring on his finger, what more could he have wanted?

“Not cheating the way you’re thinking. We had an open marriage. Martin fucking other guys wasn’t a surprise.” Jasper’s jaw worked for a moment. “I didn’t expect him to start a business with one of them and steal all the clients I’d worked to acquire, though. See…”

He went on to explain some things about business valuations and divorce proceedings that I didn’t fully process because my mind was still back on open marriage .

Was Jasper into that? Why the hell did I care?

“Anyway.” Jasper waved a hand. “My photographer friend has a lawyer friend, and she and I set up a Zoom meeting. Hopefully, she’ll take the case and get back what Martin owes me, and I can use the money to start my own business when I’m back in LA.”

I nodded. “Another modeling agency?”

“Yeah.” He looked a bit defensive, though I wasn’t sure why. “It’s not the career I set out to have, I know… but I’m good at it, and I have a lot of connections now. I like the organizing, the mentoring, the hand-holding, the playing therapist. I even liked keeping track of the models’ social media stats and financials, though we had an accountant I used for the bigger stuff.” He shrugged sheepishly. “Who doesn’t love a good spreadsheet?”

“Oh, ugh . Are you baiting me right now? You are, aren’t you?” I grimaced and shuddered, not bothering to hide my repulsion. “Nobody likes spreadsheets. That’s just… unnatural.”

Jasper’s eyes widened, and my face went hot.

“Sorry. Spreadsheets and I have history—” I began, but I snapped my mouth shut when he started laughing—a real, honest belly laugh that burrowed under all my defenses and lodged itself right in my chest.

The sound of his happiness scattered around the lake like a tangible thing. The breeze stilled, the leaves in the forest stopped rustling, and even the birds on the water went quiet, as though the whole lake was cocking its head and listening to this once familiar sound. The air grew warmer, remembering. The stars twinkled brighter in recognition. The whole world seemed to sigh at the rightness of it. And I…

I found myself staring helplessly at the man beside me .

Beautiful . So fucking beautiful.

Millions of people who’d seen Jasper’s face in glossy magazine ads or walking in shows had probably had the same passing thought, but they’d never seen him like this, with his head thrown back, his face contorted, his hair mussed, and his blanket falling off his shoulders.

This view, this Jasper, was mine .

He sniffled, trying to bring himself under control. “I tell you I’m gay, I get no reaction. I tell you I had a crush on you, you’re all… meh.” He waved a hand airily. “I apologize for crossing a line and kissing you, you try to take the blame yourself. But I confess my deep love of spreadsheets, and that’s what gets you?”

I ignored the last part of this and focused on the important bit. “I’m not trying to take the blame for the kiss. You’re trying to take the credit ,” I said in a low voice. “I kissed you.”

“Not this again. You…” Jasper turned his head, and with one glance at me, his breath caught. “Y-you…” He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, which somehow only brought our faces closer. “Prove it,” he whispered.

“Prove it?” I parroted back.

I had no idea what he was talking about because English was beyond me at that moment. Jasper’s forearm brushed against my thigh where his hand was braced against the dock, and it seared me through my jeans. My cock was a hundred percent back on board with whatever was happening, stiffening like a fucking divining rod pointing the way to the one person who’d never failed to get him interested. This guy. This one right here.

“Yeah.” Jasper licked his lips, his gaze holding mine. “I dare you,” he said softly.

I moved without thinking, my body processing his command and obeying instantly, not giving me time to overthink it. And then my mouth was on his.

Our lips met with none of the uncertainty of our first kiss but with a slow, deliberate heat that made the world fall away. I inhaled his sigh and returned it, groaning as the taste of him—sugar and chocolate and Jasper—surrounded me, filling up spaces I hadn’t known were empty.

I pushed him down to the dock and spread myself across his chest like a blanket, desperate to kiss him harder, deeper, to crawl inside him if he’d let me. Jasper seemed to be on board with this, if the way he clutched my shirt was any indication.

“More,” he whispered brokenly. “Yes, Watt?—”

A loon erupted from the lake nearby with an eerie cry, its wings slapping the surface of the water in a frantic rush, and I sprang off Jasper like I’d been scalded.

For one perfect moment, Jasper blinked up at me, dazed and wondering. Then his eyes met mine, and his expression shifted.

“Fuck,” I panted. “ Fuck .”

“No.” He sat up and grasped my face with both hands. “Do not overthink this. Please, Watt.”

“I’m not.” Mentally, I tacked on a not yet because I knew myself well enough to know this state was temporary. Once the taste of Jasper faded from my lips, all the reasons why this had been a terrible, complicated, foolish idea would come rushing back.

Like the fact that I barely knew him now, if I ever had.

And that he’d left our friendship in the dust for decades while he lived a fast-paced life in LA and planned to leave again before my orchard was even in bloom.

And that I’d never kissed a man before—well, except for that one time—because Jasper was the only man I’d ever been attracted to… which didn’t seem like a thing that should be possible and would therefore likely end in disaster… again.

And that we were supposed to be coaching a hockey team together—my son ’s team—even though Jasper knew jack shit about hockey.

Oh, look, here come the reasons. Right on time.

“You’re definitely overthinking.” He sighed and flopped down on his back.

“No. I’m just…” I pushed to my feet and began babbling. “It’s late. I have an early morning tomorrow, and you do, too, right? And then we both have practice in the afternoon. So.”

Jasper’s face was unreadable. “So,” he agreed a little sadly.

I reached out a hand to help him up, but he was already scrambling up, so I scooped up his blanket and focused on folding it neatly. When I tried to hand the blanket and his thermos off to him, he seized my hand.

“Watt, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” His cheeks flushed dark, and his voice turned pleading. “I wanted to talk to you so you’d stop being angry about the first kiss, not to make you kiss me again and then drive you away. I want us to be able to coach together. I want us to be friends again?—”

“I was never angry about the kiss, Jasper. Not then. Not now. I kissed you , remember? Twice now.”

“Debatable,” he huffed.

I gently disentangled my hand from his and instantly missed his heat. “And as for the rest…” I gave him a quick, teasing smile I wasn’t entirely feeling. “We’ll do a fine job coaching now that one of us knows what he’s doing. We’ll wait and see what happens beyond that, okay? ”

I was proud of myself for managing to sound reasonable, rational, and mature. When I saw Jasper’s reaction, I wasn’t sure why I bothered.

He bristled like I’d issued a direct challenge, complete with narrowed eyes and set jaw. “We will be friends again,” he declared. “You’ll see. By the time Christmas rolls around, you’ll be calling me your bestie.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve never called anyone that in my life. And this isn’t the kind of thing you can bet on, Jasper. You can’t force feelings to be something they’re not.”

“No,” he shot back. “You can’t. That’s exactly my point. So, do we have a deal?”

I opened my mouth to argue, then thought better of it. “What are the terms?” I heard myself ask instead.

“The Rules of Engagement According to Watt and Jasper, Circa 2003, obviously.”

I ran a thumb over my lips. I could still feel his lips on mine. “No involving other people, nothing sexual, et cetera?”

“Er. Yes.” Jasper swallowed. “Unless… if you wanted to amend it, I’d?—?”

“No,” I said quickly. That way lay madness. “Nope.”

“Right. So, then… I say we’ll be friends again in two months’ time. Strong as before. All you have to do is open your mind and accept it. And when I’m right, Watt Bartlett’s friendship will be my reward. Friends ’til the end.” He nodded once. “I won’t fuck it up this time.”

My stomach did a slow roll. Did it mean that much to him?

Jesus, was I really such an asshole that I’d withhold my friendship from the man like it was some kind of prize?

Could I, even if I wanted to ?

Two things kept me from giving in right then and there, though.

The first was that I truly did have reservations about getting close to Jasper again.

I’d believed for years that our kiss was the reason he’d cut me off without giving me a chance to apologize, and that had been bad enough, but knowing it was a misunderstanding that could have been rectified if he’d bothered getting in touch was somehow worse.

I also hated that I was even spending time thinking about unsettling bullshit like this. I should have been sleeping the sleep of the utterly content in my comfortable bed, not out kissing—kissing a man , for fuck’s sake—on a dock in the dead of night or spending my waking hours fantasizing about him. I didn’t do this sort of thing.

But the second and more compelling reason was that I simply couldn’t turn down a bet from Jasper. Because this unsettled part of me that only seemed to come alive when he was around didn’t know how to bow out gracefully.

I raised one eyebrow. “And if you don’t succeed?”

He clutched the blanket to his chest. “I… I dunno. I’ll be going back to LA eventually, and I won’t bug you anymore, so I guess that’ll be your prize.”

It was a sign of how truly unsettled I was that this didn’t feel like a prize at all.

Jasper shot me a wink and leaned toward me confidingly. “Don’t worry about that, though. I’m pretty fucking determined.” He grinned and turned on his phone’s flashlight as he prepared to make his way through the trees and up the hill. “Night, friend ,” he called over his shoulder.

My lips twitched as I watched him go.

My feelings about Jasper might be unsettled, but I couldn’t deny that I’d smiled more this week than I had in a long while. This probably meant I’d made a huge error in taking his bet…

… I won’t fuck it up this time…

…or else it was the smartest move I’d ever made.

“Good night, Jasper,” I whispered when he was too far away to hear me.

And as I walked home, I thought that maybe, just this once, I’d like to see Jasper win.