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Nora: What are you planning? Patch: I wouldn't call this planning. I'd call this throwing a Hail Mary with seconds left on the clock.
Becca Fitzpatrick
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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Call
Hail
Left
Patches
Mary
Throwing
Seconds
Planning
Clock
Nora
Wouldn
Patch
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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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He nuzzles my neck affectionately. I love you. I'm happier right now than I ever remember being.
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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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It’s so real. Most dreams are. It isn't until you wake up that you see all the plot holes.
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You dress to impress, I said approvingly. No, Angel. He leaned in, his teeth softly grazing my ear. I undress to impress.
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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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You never know what you're going to have to face, so you'd better be prepared.
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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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We touched base at several strategic locations down our bodies, and it took all my willpower to break away.
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