You find the wrong boy, you ask for trouble. You find the right boy, you find love.
Thinking. A process by which I use my brain to make a rational decision.
You're mine, Angel, and don't you forget it. Your fights are my fights. What if something bad had happened today? It was bad enough when I thought your ghost was haunting me; I don't think I can handle the real thing.
Have you finished your column for tomorrow's headline?" It was Vee. She came up beside me, jotting notes on the notepad she carried everywhere. "I'm thinking of writing mine on the injustice of seating charts. I got paired with a girl who said she just finished lice treatment this morning.
Citizen's arrest," he said. "Well, that, and Patch told me to.
If I'd wanted you dead five minutes ago, you'd have died five minutes ago.
I trailed off.Patch leaned lazily against the counter. Dark hair flipped out from under his ball cap. A smile tugged at his mouth. My thoughts dissolved and just like that, a new thought broke the surface of my mind. I wanted to kiss him. Right now.
I shouldn't have been looking at lingerie. It naturally made me think about sexy things. Like kissing. Like Patch.
She cleans a toilet inside and out under a minute. More like terrifying
Scott: Friends don't let friends drive drunk. Nora: Are you trying to appeal to my conscience? Scott: How can you turn down a once-in-a-lifetime chance to drive the 'Stang? Nora: How about you sell me the 'Stang for thirty dollars? I can even pay cash. Scott: Drunk, but not that drunk, Grey.
Everything had come into sharp focus : his smooth words, his black, glinting eyes, his broad experience with lies, seduction, women. I'd fallen in love with the devil.
You're going to have to drive off the road and park behind thoses bushes," I instructed Vee. Vee leaned forward, peering into the darkness. "Is that a ditch between me and the bushes ?" "It's not very deep. Trust me, we'll clear it." "Looks deep to me. This is a Neon we're talking about, not a Hummer.
I know you followed me. Don't look so surprised. It's called a rearview mirror.
Her hair was strawberry blond, and she had the shape of a popsicle stick: turn her sideways and she practically disappeared.
Patch's eyes were slate black, darker than a million secrets stacked on top of each other. He dropped his gaze to the ring in his hand, turning it over slowly. "Swear you'll never stop loving me," I whispered. Ever so slightly, he nodded.
You're a liar!" He turned around, his black eyes snapping. "I'm also a thief, a gambler, a cheat, and a murdered. But this happens to be one of the rare times when I'm telling the truth. Go home. Consider yourself lucky. You've got a chance to start fresh. Not everyone can say the same.
Are you defending Marcie?” He shook his head. “I don’t need to. She handled herself. You, on the other hand…” I pointed at the door. “Out.
I’m really starting to like all this spy work,” Vee said. “When my normal life gets boring, all I have to do is sidle up next to you.
With you, what you see is what you get. And I see cheap.
Patch stood over me, and a drop of rain slid from his hair, landing like ice on my collarbone. I felt it slide along my skin, disappearing beneath the neckline of my shirt. His eyes followed the raindrop, and I began to quiver on the inside.
I tended to be more a romantic than a realist, and chose blind faith over cold logic.
Busted. I'm a monster. Jev is my deceptively harmless-and shockingly handsome-alter ego.
Let’s be honest, Nora. You’ve got it bad for me." His eyes held a lot of depth. "And I’ve got it bad for you.
I called Vee. "How are you doing?" I asked. "Good. How are you?" "Good." Silence. "Okay," Vee said in a rush, "I am still totally freaked out. You?" "Totally.
I'm not leaving until you tell me why you followed me. I know I'm a fascinating guy, but this is starting to feel like an unhealthy obsession.
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