She waved at Marge, the ticket seller, who was knee-deep in a bodice ripper romance book by Debra Anastasia.
I was her something special.
He was like speaking to my own reflection. Things were only between the two of us.
He called me a motormouth because I liked to talk – but then he’d tell me it was okay because he liked to listen.
I had Gaze. He was always just a bubble gun away.
Gaze got a future or I got one. I picked Gaze.
He was making my mouth mine, letting me be the one that decided to be kissed. And then I wasn’t thinking anymore. I was just a girl kissing a boy and free falling into the beauty of permission.
She was reuniting a vendetta with a curse.
Whatever you need. You can take it from me.
But now I knew that my love for her was as real as the blood on my hands.
He pulled us both into light headlocks and kissed the tops of our heads. Gaze pat Austin’s stomach hard. “My chickens. Do well. Be well. I love you.
Each other’s sun and shadow at the same time.
She’d always be my hero. I just wanted to do everything I could to be hers as well.
I’ve always only wanted to save you.
I took a second to go into my bedroom and get the immense bottle of lube. I could only be so spontaneous with what I packed in my pants.
I tried to etch the feeling of the weight of his arm on my hip. Too bad a feeling couldn’t be a tattoo.
Be you. Being you is a victory. Being you and everything you have faced in your life makes you exceptional. Loved. So, so worthy of love.
I couldn’t open cans of biscuits. They were like evil little jack-in-the-boxes.
He didn’t want to be home and I couldn’t stand mine.
And just like that, my battered soul had wings.
This way, Kitten. Look forward.