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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from continuing to bare my soul to him.

I don’t mention that no matter where I was sent, or how much my foster families tried to make me feel at home in the first few days, I always felt emotionally detached from all those strangers—even before I knew my story.

That feeling only got worse once I found out my mom had been hurt. That’s when the praying started. From that moment on, I became even more closed off from everyone around me, because I didn’t want another mother. I wanted mine .

"You tend to forget to eat," I say, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

He seems to take a few seconds to analyze me, like he knows I’m dodging questions about the past. For one panicked moment, I think he’s going to push, and if he does, I know I won’t be able to stop myself from answering.

There’s something about him that makes me want to be known, truly known, which I can only describe as temporary insanity on my part.

After tonight, there’s a good chance we’ll never see each other again.

To my relief, he starts walking again, and I follow.

"It’s good," he says simply.

"It’s not just good . This is the best ice cream in the world." I slip off my sandals and walk down into the sand.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

"This is my celebration, sir. You’re merely the guest. Follow me or retreat," I say, laughing as I walk backward toward the water, eyes locked on him.

My foolish heart pounds so hard in my chest I start to feel short of breath. It’s something I should probably get checked out, since I’ve been getting tired more easily lately, but right now we don’t have money for health insurance. Nothing is more important than the lawyers' fees.

Besides, I chalk the racing heart up to the fact that Jasper is now walking toward me, his face serious, the ice cream in his hand completely forgotten.

He looks like a hunter stalking prey, and once again, that dreamlike sense of unreality hits me full-force.

I try to recall the warning he gave me: "We can’t get involved, Alexis. Like I said before, I’d only end up hurting you."

But all I can think is that he saw me. Of all the women he could have been with tonight, he chose to be with me.

I don’t know anything about him, but I know enough about the kind of men who visit Cape Cod to understand he’s not just another guy, and I’m not talking about the fact that he’s obviously wealthy—every cell in his body radiates power and confidence.

He’s not the type to chase simple, inexperienced girls for fun. I must have really caught his attention, and no matter how much I try to tamp down the euphoria, I can’t. It feels like some kind of drug. I feel high—every primitive instinct buzzing at the surface.

With every step he takes, my body reacts like it has a mind of its own, blood boiling, every sense tuned to him.

Even if I never see Jasper again after tonight, I know he’ll be burned into my memory, and some foolish little voice inside me whispers that from now on, he’ll be the standard by which I measure all other men, even though I know we are from different universes.

Is this what rock band fans feel like when they meet their idols?

"Can I make tonight mine ?" he asks seriously, and I realize this is no longer about just walking on the beach or hanging around the boardwalk.

"It wouldn’t be that easy. I wouldn’t give up my special night without a good fight," I say, finishing the last of my ice cream, which now tastes like nothing compared to the heat sparking through my body from being near him.

Jasper watches every move, saying nothing, even as I chew through the cone—more as a distraction from him than out of any real desire to eat it.

When I swallow the last bite, he’s already standing right in front of me.

"All done?"

A breeze brushes past us at that exact moment, carrying his scent to me—something musky and intoxicating.

And in that moment, looking up at him, I realize what it is about Jasper that’s gotten under my skin.

It’s not just his looks, even though he is, without a doubt, the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met.

There’s something raw beneath that polished billionaire exterior.

A purely sexual pull that tells me one night in his arms would never be enough. I’d remember it forever.

I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to get a grip on my senses. Not looking at him helps me think more clearly.

The reckless woman who wants this gorgeous stranger to pull her into his arms and kiss her breathless isn’t me. Tomorrow, I’d wake up feeling awful, alone, and used. That finally brings back my strength—and my common sense.

"Yes, I’m done. And now it’s time to go. I have to be up again soon. Thank you for your company." I don’t give him a chance to reply—I just run off. But before I can get more than five meters away, I hear his voice:

"I thought you worked the evening shift."

I should ignore him. Pretend I didn’t hear. But instead, I find myself saying, "I’m not waking up early for work. I’m coming back to this beach to surf." I keep running, even as I ask myself why I gave him that information. I could have just said I was going surfing, not where.

Because you want him to chase you, my subconscious answers, and I’m honest enough to admit it’s right.

I do want Jasper to chase me, even if I’m terrified of what might happen when he finally catches me.