There had always been something about Jasper Miller. Maybe she hadn’t seen it at first, maybe it was something to do with the fact that she had died and been given a second chance at doing things right and found him right in front of her, with that stupid smile and his awkward sense of humour, but there had always been something about Jasper Miller. Beneath the awkwardness and the terrible reasons why they should not have been together, her personality, her blackened past, even the fact he had sat through three rounds of cake with her family only days earlier that had ended with her storming out in a tacky Christmas sweater, she couldn’t deny that she liked him. She had always been the one to make the first move, always been so sure about what she wanted and how to achieve it but now, as she stood boots deep in snow, staring out from the porch of the log cabin, hazel eyes lined in liner and lips shaded a nude she was sure he would not notice, she wondered why it was that someone so pure, so critically good, would ever want her. He knew everything. He was the only person who had ever known everything and accepted her. His eyes had never changed as she cried about the Father of her baby, he had held her hand underneath the table as her despicable step Father had poured endless wine into glasses and after all of that, after the fact that he must have wondered if one day he could wake up and she’d just be gone again, he was still there. She couldn’t understand him, not really, she couldn’t understand what he saw in her, she couldn’t understand what made them work, because all she had ever been was a pretty face with a dirty past, a dirty and tasteless one, and then she had been a Mother, and then she had been dead, and now she wasn’t really too sure about anything anymore. Anything but the fact that snow squashed beneath the feet of her snow boots as she stepped down the steps to join the spread below, gloved fingers tightening around the wooden handles that led down into the snow below.
He was probably the only man in the entire world who had asked a girl to go on a date instead of just hooking up, and a smile touched her lips at the thought. A date. She had never been on one of those, in all her years, nobody had ever asked. Probably because nobody needed a date when a girl would give up everything they were for a look their way, but maybe that was just another thing that needed to change. Bree had always thought she was in charge of the game, but she had never been, you could never be in charge of a game that meant seeing yourself given away and then walking away at any chance of happiness. She wanted to change that. She hoped she could change that. She hoped maybe Jasper and his awkward texts, and his weird comments, and his his ridiculous amount of endless facts, could be the start of making her into a person that she could be proud of. She knew it was only a date, that it didn’t mean anything, that he could turn around and realise just how much he deserved better, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t felt excited about anything in so long that it was hard to contain and as she caught sight of him, her eyes lit up and she no longer cared that she hadn’t had the chance to showcase her body, or wear a low cut top because as she stepped towards him in her coat and plain black jeans she almost wrapped her arms around him, but then hesitated, arms still wide, instead turning into a strange clapping motion, excitement forced out of her as if someone was squeezing her, “What are we doing? Where are you taking me? I know I said I trusted you with my life,” she laughed tucking some hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture, “But if you do end up killing me then we’ll never get to that hook up I asked you for,” she bit down on her lip, trying not to laugh, he was so easily confused that she couldn’t help but try and tease him.
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