Blessings sometimes come through brokenness that could never come in any other way.
I want Scott to look at me the way Patch looks at you.
I couldn't stand here, hanging on, when the very thing I held disappeared more with each passing day.
Any happiness, no matter how brief, seemed better than the long, simmering torture of waking up day after day, knowing I could never have him.
I nibbled my lower lip. "If you could see into my past just by touching my back, you'd have a hard time resisting the temptation too. " "I have a hard time keeping my hands off you without that added bonus.
One more secret smile. One more shared laugh. One more electric kiss. Finding him was like finding someone I didn't know I was searching for.
If we're doing this for ten hours, I'm going to need a little incentive to stay motivated. " Patch hooked his elbow around my neck and dragged me into a kiss. "Every time you strip my sword, I owe you a kiss. How's that sound?" I bit my lip to keep from giggling. "That sounds really dirty. " Patch waggled his eyebrows. "Look whose mind just rolled into the gutter. Two kisses per strip. Any objections?" I pulled on an innocent face. "None whatsoever.
As an improviser I'm now pretty comfortable with trios, so I'm thinking of working up to quartets.
He's a terrorist. Rush Limbaugh is a terrorist.
Yet, I wondered why Marshall did not at least attempt a kiss. In many ways, his treatment of me reminded me of the way I had behaved toward the doll that Mamma Mae had given me as a child. I favored it so that I had refused myself of the joy of playing with it, daring to love it only with my eyes. But in doing so, I had denied myself its very purpose.
He loved her beyond all reason and didn't expect her to love him back. He was just waiting for her to wise up.