Page 15 of Off-Limits Mate

Jasper unwraps his sandwich and takes a bite. His eyes close, and he seems to savor it, which makes my heart skip a beat.

The fact that I brought him something that’s clearly pleasing is… way, way too inappropriate.

“How’d you know that meatball subs are my favorite?” He cracks an eye open and looks at me with genuine curiosity.

“I remembered. You and Nolan made them constantly.”

Jasper chuckles. “Yeah, well. It’s not like we had a ton of options, and they were cheap and good.”

“Not to mention you could just make meatballs and have sandwiches for days,” I add.

“So true.”

“I don’t know how you could just keep eating them for so long and not be sick of them.”

Jasper holds up his sandwich. “You want to try?”

“Um. No thanks. I like a little variety in my sandwich choices.”

He laughs again. “Amara, I don’t remember you being so…”

I’m way too interested in what he’s about to say. What does he think of me?

“Stubborn,” he finishes.

That makes me roll my eyes. “Really? Nolan and I’s constant fights about doing my homework or going to practice or going to school aren’t something you remember?”

Frowning, Jasper shakes his head. “No, actually. I don’t remember any of that.”

“Lucky,” I mutter.

He shrugs. “You lost your parents, and Nolan was trying to be Mom, Dad, and brother. Stands to reason neither one of you was in a really good place then.”

“I guess,” I whisper.

Jasper looks away for a minute, and I do the same. I’m about to leave when he speaks.

“They’d be proud of you.”

My eyes snap to his. “Who?”

“Your parents,” he says softly.

“I don’t know. I was young, and I’d like to think they would be proud of me, but they’re dead,” I say flatly. Jasper moves like he wants to say something, but I shake my head. “I don’t mean it in a weird way. I just… They’re not here. I’d rather Nolan be proud, since he’s the one who put up with all my shit.”

Considering my words, Jasper frowns slightly. “Yeah. Well. I think they’d be proud, too.”

“As would yours,” I say after a minute.

He snorts. “They wouldn’t.”

“Why?”

He looks away, and I think for a second that I’ve overstepped. That he doesn’t actually want to tell me, that he is going to just let it go…

“I fucked up.”

That gets my attention. “What?”

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