Quote

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.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Hips
Lingered
Legs
Skirt
Gave
Patch
Bits
Skirts
Back
Patches
Need
Killer
Needs
Deadly
Work
Killers

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If I'd wanted you dead five minutes ago, you'd have died five minutes ago.
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What was up with class today? It was watered-down porn. He practically had you and Patch on top of your lab table, horizontal, minus your clothes, doing the Big Deed.
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Your biggest dream? - Nora Grey Kiss you. - Patch Cipriano
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I don’t like the idea of dragging you into something that could get messy fast. If you need one more reason, I love you. This is uncharted territory for me, but I need to know that at the end of the night, I have you to come home to.
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It was a smile that spelled trouble. With a promise.
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I swear to you, Nora Grey, on this day, from now and forever, to give myself to you. I am yours. My love, my body, my soul—I place in your possession and protection.” He held out the ring, a single offering, a binding promise. ~ Patch + Nora
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actions speak louder than words
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I didn’t break his jaw, but if he lays a hand on you, it will be the first of many things to break,” Patch said.
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I don't go out with strangers, I said. Good thing I do. I'll pick you up at five.
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Boys everywhere take note: That was a kiss.
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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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I’m not stealing it. We’re stranded. This is called borrowing.” “This is called you’re crazy.
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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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Stay with me tonight. Let me hold you even if that's all it is. Let me keep you safe.
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Listen, Patch, I don’t want to be rude, but—” “Sure you do.” “Well, you started it!” Lovely. Very mature.
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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.
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Well, well,” he said. “Five days a week isn’t enough of me? Had to give me an evening, too?
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don't make me regret this I said, breathless. You haven't regretted me once. He kissed me, and I answered so hungrily I thought my lips would bruise. Patch&Nora ( p. 180)
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Science is an investigation, Coach said, sanding his hands together. Science requires us to transform into spies. Put that way, science almost sounded fun. But I'd been in Coach's class long enough not to get my hopes up.
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I would lay down everything I possess, even my soul, for you. If that isn't love, it's the best I have.
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