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His were the kind of eyes that held secrets. The kind that lied without flinching. The kind that once you looked into them, it was hard to break away.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Secret
Eye
Flinching
Away
Lied
Without
Secrets
Hard
Held
Kind
Looked
Break
Eyes

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But if I hadn't fallen, I wouldn't have met you.
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You keep life on a short leash.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You’re scared of what you can’t control.
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Anthony raised his red plastic cup to me and shouted something, but it was too hard to hear over the music. “What?” I called back. “You look great!” A goofy smile was plastered on his face. “Oh boy,” Vee said. “Not just a pimp, but a smashed pimp.” “So maybe he’s a little drunk.” “Drunk and hoping to corner you alone in a bedroom upstairs.” Ugh.
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Or, if you decide you want to sleep at my place, on opposite sides of my bedroom with a Do Not Cross line drawn down the middle, I'll do it. I won't like it, but I'll do it.
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The only thing a boyfriend was good for was a shattered heart.
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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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He was abominable...and the most alluring, tortured soul I'd ever met.
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Ready? Despite the grim mood, I smiled and cracked my knuckles. Ready to wrestle with my gorgeous boyfriend? Oh, I'd say I'm ready for that. Amusement softened his eyes. I'll try to control where I put my hands, but in the heat of things, who knows what could happen? I added. Patch grinned. Sounds promising.
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He gave Marcie a spare to the Jeep—I should park this thing in the ocean, twenty feet under.
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How warm I feel. How icredibly alive and vibrant and heedless every last inch of me feels next to you.
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Are you crazy? I said. Crazy about you. Patch! Don't worry, we've got time. How do you know? He staggered back a step, with his hand over his heart. Your lack of faith hurts.
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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.
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...Good, because I need your help. Help is my middle name. I was pretty sure she'd already told me bad was her middle name, but I kept my opinion to myself.
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He brushed my curls back off my face. “I never pictured my life so complete. I never thought I’d have everything I want. You’re everything to me, Angel.
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The sensible part of me wanted to dissect my emotions, overthinking and overcomplicating my reaction to Jev.
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Did you hear something, Nora?” Vee asked. “I thought I heard something.” “You definitely heard something,” I agreed. “Could that be … a dog fart I heard?” Vee asked me.
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I personally believe Patch scared the pants off normal, and it took off running for the far side of the world.
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Arrogance can be deadly.
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Angel... I don't think you understand the lengths I would go to if it means keeping you here with me.' -Patch (PG 262)
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You're mine, Angel. And I'm yours. Nothing can change that.
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