Quote

I’m going to grab a cheeseburger,” I told Patch. “Want anything?” “Nothing on the menu.” I smiled. “Why, Patch, are you flirting with me?

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Patch
Going
Flirting
Patches
Grab
Smiled
Cheeseburger
Told
Menu
Anything
Menus
Nothing

More quotes by Becca Fitzpatrick

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I swear to you, Patch, to take your love and cherish it. And in return, to give you my body and my heart—everything I possess, I give to you. I am yours. Wholly and completely. Love me. Protect me. Fulfill me. And I promise to do the same.” ~ Nora + Patch
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I know you followed me. Don't look so surprised. It's called a rearview mirror.
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Door’s locked,” he said. “And we have unfinished business.
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I need to get back to work,” Patch said. He gave me a once-over that lingered a bit below the hips. “Killer skirt. Deadly legs.
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If I had known things would turn out this way, I would have trained harder. I would have learned to take care of myself. But I guess that's the point, isn't it? You never know what you're going to have to face, so you'd better be prepared.
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Guess who has PE first hour? This is so unfair. I start the day off perspiring like an elephant in heat. Don't the people who make up our schedule understand body odor? Don't they understand frizzy hair? ~Vee
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Cheshvan starts tonight, Rixon said, What are you doing arsing around in a graveyard? Thinking. Thinking? A process by which I use my brain to make a rational decision.
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Patch was in my life for a reason. I needed him. We were two halves of the same whole.
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Hang on, did you just call me Angel?” I asked. “If I did?” “I don’t like it.” He grinned. “It stays. Angel.” He leaned across the table, raised his hand to my face, and brushed his thumb along one corner of my mouth. I pulled away, too late.
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My life sucks when I’m only half-aware of it. If I quit drinking and saw what it’s really like, I’d probably jump off a bridge.
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Violence doesn't equal strength.
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Fine! I'll throw on some clothes. Turn around. I'm in my pj's I'm a guy. That's like asking a kid not to glance at the candy counter.
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You find the wrong boy, you ask for trouble. You find the right boy, you find love.
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Walk out,” he repeated. “We need to talk.” “About how you need to sacrifice me to get a human body?” I asked, my tone light, my insides feeling leaden. “That might be cute if you thought it was true.
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I’m not going anywhere near a motel with you.
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Nothing makes me happy quite like a boatload of freshly fried fast food, smothered in good old MSG.
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I took three steps back he nudged the door closed with his foot. “You like Mexican?” he asked. “I—” I’d like to know what you’re doing inside my house! “Tacos?” “Tacos?” I echoed. This seemed to amuse him. “Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.” “I know what a taco is!
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He was abominable...and the most alluring, tortured soul I'd ever met.
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I'm not leaving until you tell me why you followed me. I know I'm a fascinating guy, but this is starting to feel like an unhealthy obsession.
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The truth is, normal might take years. Normal might never happen. But it’s definitely not going to happen if I lounge around here watching soaps and avoiding life. I’m going to school today, end of story.
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