I'm beginning to think cookies is a code word for something else." "Maybe it is." He tugged on my bag again as he took a confident step back, forcing me down another step. "And just think about it. If cookie was a code word, whatever it symbolizes, it's been in your mouth, sweetheart.
We have to stop meeting like this." And that was the truest thing ever spoke. I needed to stop staring at his bicep... and chest... and tattoo. Never thought the sun could be so... sexy. Wow. This was awkward. "You running over me, me almost running over you?" Cam elaborated. "It's like we're a catastrophe waiting to happen.
I've always found that the most beautiful people, truly beautiful inside and out, are the ones who are quietly unaware of their effect.
It was a Friday night, she was at a club, and a good-looking man was currently giving her the I-want-to-take-you-home-and-I-hope-I-last-longer-than-five-minutes look… and she was thinking about pie, a young adult book, and feeding her cat. She was so turning into the cat lady at twenty-seven. Sweet.
You've been checking me out, haven't you? In between your flaming insults? I feel like man candy.
You’re a good guy, Cam.” “No, I’m not.” He exhaled deeply and his breath was warm against my cheek. “I’m only good with you.
Memories, even bittersweet ones, are better than nothing.
He dipped his head, placing his mouth to the space below her ear. He nipped her there, just a tiny bite that sent a wave of heat through her veins. And then his lips moved lower, leaving a hot trail behind. “You drive me insane, absolutely freaking insane. Do you know that? I bet you do.
You don’t have to want to be in a relationship for a little bow-chicka-bow-wow.” Brittany looked at him slowly. “Did you really just say that?” “I did. And I owned it . Gonna make me a shirt that says that.
Cookie for you. Cookie for me.
I started to kiss him back, slower and clumsy where his had been sure, practiced. I was worried I was doing it wrong, but then a deep sound came from him, almost a growl and instinctively I knew it was a sound of approval.
Everything okay?" Cam asked, placing his hand on my lower back. Concern pinched his brows. "Yes." I dropped my cell back into my bag. Everything was okay. Maybe not perfect, but life wasn't meant to be perfect. It was messy and sometimes it was a disaster, but there was beauty in the messiness and there could be peace in the disaster.
you’re going to miss me, but you’re not going to admit it
Cam was already on his feet, waiting for me. I arched my brow at him. "Following me?" "Like a true serial killer," he replied.
If I fall and break my neck, will you say something nice at my funeral?" "Like 'Kyler was usually more graceful?
Pens?" Chase echoed. Bridget rolled her eyes. "Pens are by far more stimulating than most people." "I'm kind of wondering what you're going with those pens," Chase said Madison scrunched up her nose. "Get your mind out of the gutter." "My mind is always in the gutter around you.
What are you up to?” “Oh, you know, mischief and mayhem,” he replied. “That so reminds me of Harry Potter,” Brit said, sighing. “I need a re-read.” We all turned to her. Two bright spots appeared in her cheeks as she tossed her blonde hair back. “What? I’m not ashamed to admit that random things remind me of Harry Potter.
He raised his brows. "You're drunk." "Am not!" He gave me a bland look. "A drunk's famous last words before they fall flat on their face.
Did last night really happen?" One side of his lips tipped up, and my chest swelled. I'd missed that smile. "Depends on what you think happend." "I took my shirt off for you?" His eyes deepened. "Yes. Lovely moment.
A sleepy smile pulled at my lips as I rolled onto my stomach, stretching my legs out and pointing my toes. The sheets slipped over my bare skin and ended up somewhere at the foot of my bed. There was either a perverted ghost in my bedroom or Cam was wide awake.
According to the three missed calls from her mother—who thought Madison had been kidnapped in the big, bad city and was now being held for an ungodly sum of money—the four text messages from her brother wondering if she knew how to navigate the beltway—because apparently little sisters couldn’t drive—and the voice mail from her father warning there was a problem with the reservations, she was late for brunch.
People got out of the way for Cam. He was like a hot Moses, parting a sea of drunk college students.
Yeah, because when you’re attracted to someone, you actually enjoy kissing them and afterward, you don’t act like you kissed Adolf Hitler.
The silence was killing me. And that's all there ever was. Silence. It was all I knew. Keep quiet. Pretend nothing had happened, that nothing was wrong. And look how well that was turning out.
My brain must have felt sorry for me, so it'd created the only type of guy I could touch - a fantasy one.
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