Patch Backed Me Into A Tree And

I Wrinkled My Nose, Trying To Figure Out What He Smelled Like. Not Cigarettes. Something Richer, Fouler. Cigars.

All I Can Think About Is Bed.” “we’re Sharing The Same Thought.” “you’re Thinking About Bed Too?” “i’m Thinking About You In My Bed.

I Think I'm More Of A Guardian Angel Girl.

Scott: Friends Don't Let Friends Drive Drunk. Nora: Are You Trying To Appeal To My Conscience? Scott: How Can You Turn Down A Once-in-a-lifetime Chance To Drive The 'stang? Nora: How About You Sell Me The 'stang For Thirty Dollars? I Can Even Pay Cash. Scott: Drunk, But Not That Drunk, Grey.

Let’s Be Honest, Nora. You’ve Got It Bad For Me." His Eyes Held A Lot Of Depth. "and I’ve Got It Bad For You.