After searching for a space, I parked behind the tattoo parlor in front of a sign that said NO PARKING. Since it didn’t specify to whom it was referring, I figured it couldn’t possibly be talking to me.
He bombarded me with words, of all things, apparently clueless to the fact that the predawn hours rendered me incapable of coherent thought.
Garret Swopes was a lot like a hot gay friend only he wasn’t gay, which was too bad because then I could tell him how hot he was without him getting the wrong idea.
Reyes leaned back against the bar, crossed his arms over his chest, and studied me from beneath those same ridiculously long lashes. Men and their freaking lashes. It was so unfair. Like the exorbitant cost of designer shoes. Or world hunger.
That’s the thing about things. They tend to happen.
She didn’t smile back. Not even a little. I totally needed to read that book on how to win friends and influence people. But that would involve an innate desire to win friends and influence people.
I was white. Chalk had more color than I did. And quite possibly more personality.
When life hands you lemons say, “Lemons? What else have you got?” – bumper sticker.
There was nothing like a trip to the gynecologist to make one feel just a little violated. Charley.
I could hardly be responsible for my actions when everyone around me gave me every opportunity to sink to their low expectations.
Charley: If you‘re not going to tell me where you are, if you‘re not going to trust me to help you, then why are you here? Why bother? Reyes: Because you‘re the reason I breathe.
Love was not only blind, it often careened into Blithering Idiotsville as well.
You were the one who hit me on the roof? I hit you on the jaw. We just happened to be on a roof at the time.
See you in a few. Hold down the fort, Mr. Wong!
The police never find it as funny as you do.-T-Shirt.
God I loved Sammy. I’d considered marrying him, but his wife got upset when I asked for his hand.
He’d actually hit me! It didn’t matter that hitting me wasn’t really like hitting a regular girl and I’d be completely healed in a matter of hours. I was still a freaking girl, and he damned well knew it. I’d just have to hit him back. With a lead pipe. Or an eighteen-wheeler.
He had threatened my parents. I had to remember that. Still, it was really hard to stay mad at a wounded naked man.
She’s like a hurricane on crystal meth.
Sorry. i just can’t seem to help myself. My brain is freaking out. Two predawn mornings in a row. It doesn’t know what to think, how to act. I’ll have a talk with it later. Perhaps get it some counseling.