Patch wasn't the kind of guy mothers smiled on. He was the kind of guy they changed the house locks for.
I took three steps back; he nudged the door closed with his foot. “You like Mexican?” he asked. “I—” I’d like to know what you’re doing inside my house! “Tacos?” “Tacos?” I echoed. This seemed to amuse him. “Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.” “I know what a taco is!
Nope. That´s my line. This is my boyfriend´s house, which makes that my line,exclusively.Where is he?" Nora (p. 287)
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