That Was A Good Fight Back In

I Gave A Relenting Sigh. "fine! I'll Throw On Some Clothes. Turn Around. I'm In My Pj's." Pj's That Consisted Of Nothing But A Tank Top And Boy Shorts--an Image I Didn't Want To Sear Into Scott's Mind. Scott Smiled. "i'm A Guy. That's Like Asking A Kid Not To Glance At The Candy Counter." Ugh. The Dimple In His Cheek Deepened. And It Was Not In Any Way Cute... Pg 196

I Tilted My Chin Up A Fraction. "you Can't F-force Me To Stay Here." I'd Only Agreed To Come This Far Because I Didn't Want To Stand Out In The Downpour, For One, And I Had High Hopes Of Finding A Phone, For Two. "that Sounded More Like A Question Than A Statement," Said Patch. "then Ans-s-swer It." His Rogue Smile Crept Out. "it's Hard To Concentrate On Answers With You Looking Like That." I Glanced Down At Patch's Black Shirt, Wet And Clinging To My Body. I Brushed Past Him And Shut The Bathroom Door Between Us.

It’s So Real." "most Dreams Are. It Isn't Until You Wake Up That You See All The Plot Holes.

Patch? Whatever Happens, I Love You." I Wanted To Say More, Those Three Words Painfully Inadequate For The Way I Felt About Him. And At The Same Time, So Simple And Accurate, Nothing Else Would Do.

Mr. Green Sweater Looks Normal, But His Wingman Looks Hard-core Bad Boy,” Said Vee. “emits A Certain Don’t-mess-with-me Signal. Tell Me He Doesn’t Look Like Dracula’s Spawn. Tell Me I’m Imagining Things.