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I forced a smile. It was the one I'd been practicing all morning. It felt tight at the edges and brittle everywhere in between.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Morning
Felt
Brittle
Practicing
Tight
Forced
Edges
Everywhere
Smile

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Everything had come into sharp focus : his smooth words, his black, glinting eyes, his broad experience with lies, seduction, women. I'd fallen in love with the devil.
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His smile was sexy and warned of trouble, but I'd made up my mind that not all trouble was bad.
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When I'm wasted, I can almost forget who I am, he said, his smile fading slightly. I know I'm still there, but only barely. It's a good place to be. He tipped back the thermos, eyes on the dark sea straight ahead
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What little light was left inside me flickered out.
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Since the dawn of time, women have been attracted to mates with strong survival skills—like intelligence and physical prowess— because men with these qualities are more likely to bring home dinner at the end of the day.” He stuck his thumbs in the air and grinned. “Dinner equals survival, team
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I wanted to imprint his touch, his taste, even the scent of him so solidly inside me that no one could take them away from me.
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Are you keeping anything else from me?” “I’m keeping a lot of things from you.” “Like?” “Like the way I feel about being locked up in here with you. You have no idea what you do to me.
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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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Is that a yes? he asked, pushing his fingers through my hair, fanning it out around my shoulders and searching my face intently. Please let it be yes, he said with a gravelly edge. Stay with me tonight. Let me hold you, even if that's all it is. Let me keep you safe.
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I think I'm more of a guardian angel girl.
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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?
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I didn’t accept your sacrifice. I turned it down.” I felt a small Oh form at my mouth, but it never quite made it past my lips. “Are you saying you gave up getting a human body for me?
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You're mine, Angel. And I'm yours. Nothing can change that.
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You’ve never been to school, ever? If that’s true— and you’re right, I don’t think it is—what made you decide to come this year?” “You....Your eyes, Nora. Those cold, pale gray eyes are surprisingly irresistible.” He tipped his head sideways, as if to study me from a new angle. “And that killer curvy mouth
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I’m not going to kill you, Nora. I don’t kill people who are important to me. And you top the list.
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Are you gloating inside? That's what this is about, isn't it? Getting me to trust you so you could blow it up in my face! [...] I get that you're angry—, said Patch. I am ripped apart! I shouted.
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I'm not good, he said, piercing me with eyes that absorbed all light but reflected none, but I was worse.
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They say that when you're about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. They never tell you that when you watch someone you once loved dying, hovering between this life and the next, it's twice as painful, because you're reliving two lives that traveled one road together.
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If I were thinking straight, I'd take you home right now.
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Let me show you,” he said in my ear. “Like this. Feel that? Relax. Now pivot your hips—it’s all in the hips.
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