Tonight I want to stand on the side of a cliff and look down, dare the wind to gust and knock me off. Everyone thinks that falling to your death is the worst thing that can happen. But that’s a lie. The worst thing is to be alive for no reason.
When you tell me to be good, it makes me want to be good,' I say, hearing the undisguised desire in my voice. I run my fingers through the hair at her temples, taking her face between my palms, and she doesn't move. 'It also makes me want to be very, very bad.
When you finally figure out what you really want, everything else pales in comparison.
There's something uncontaminated about her, and I don't even mean sexually or whatever. I mean the way she is, at her core. Like when you wake up and the world has been blanketed by snow overnight, and not a single footstep or tire track has spoiled the untouched perfection of it.
The getting is easy; the keeping is the important part.
I'm a hopeful romantic who adores novels with happy endings, because there are enough sad endings in real life.
The night we met-I'm not like that guy." His jaw was rigid. "I know tha-" He placed a finger over my lips, his expression softening. "So I don't want you to feel pressured. Or overpowered. But I do, absolutely, want to kiss you right now. Badly.
I don't believe there's a reason for everything, and having faith doesn't mean I'm blind. I believe people make poor choices. I believe bad things happen to good people. I believe there's evil in the word that I will never understand, but will never stop fighting.
I say I don't believe in love, but that's not really true - love is just the name of an emotion. It's like on steroids. It's lust with ethics.
You 're so beautiful.
That's how they say it: He loves you in his own way. Well, what about my way? What if I need for him to love me in my way?
I thought about texting Lucas, but what would i say? That I'd tossed and turned all night, thinking of his hands on me?
Testing her sexuality, she thinks she's caught a beautiful fish, when in reality, she's netted a shark.
I wanted to tell you that I just--I miss you. And maybe that sounds ridiculous--like we barely know each other, but between the emails and texts and... everything else, I felt like we did. Like we do. and I miss--I don't know how else to say it--I miss both of you.
When you find yourself about to say something that crosses a line, something that could cause irreparable harm, sometimes the best you can do is just not say that thing.
And I’m okay, I really am, most of the time. But sometimes, I’m just not.
Bonus: I now knew what Erin meant by lickable abs.
But the scars are always there, waiting for something to poke them.
Some of us can begin to heal the damage people have done to us by escaping the situation, but some of us need more than that. Tattoos make statements that need to be made. Or hide things that are no one’s business. Your scars are battle wounds, but you don’t see them that way. Yet.
I belong to you. There is no one else. All I want is to be where you are.
I want to see your tattoos." "You do, huh?
He brushed my tears from my face. "How did I find you?
Erin you' re dangerous." "Iknow.
She chews her lip, staring into my eyes. "Okay... Why did you kiss me in Austin?" I laugh softly and she frowns. "Sorry. That one's too easy." My gaze flicks to her mouth and back. "I'd wanted to kiss you ever since Quinton suggested playing spin the bottle, and by that night in your room, I'd run out of willpower to fight it.
ME: You 're a sick girl. ERIN: Guilty as charged. :)
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