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I know you followed me. Don't look so surprised. It's called a rearview mirror.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Called
Look
Looks
Followed
Surprised
Mirror
Mirrors

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The more time I spent with him, the more I knew the feelings weren't going away.
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A war was coming either way. Now all I had to do was choose my opponent
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He's got the whole bad-boy-in-need-of-redemption thing going on, but the catch is, most bad boys don't want redemption. They like being bad. They like the power they get from striking fear and panic into the hearts of mothers everywhere
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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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Your mine, angel. And I won't let anything change that.
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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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You can call me Patch. No really. Call me.
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Kiss me in a way I'll never forget. Kiss me in a way that will stay with me until see you again
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What is it with you and girls’ bathrooms?
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It was bad enough when I thought your ghost was haunting me I don't think I could handle the real thing.
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Your past wouldn’t frighten me,” I said, buckling my seat belt across my lap. “I’m guessing I’d be more appalled than anything.
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Patch stood over me, and a drop of rain slid from his hair, landing like ice on my collarbone. I felt it slide along my skin, disappearing beneath the neckline of my shirt. His eyes followed the raindrop, and I began to quiver on the inside.
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She shrieked. Nora! What happened to the banister! Good thing she hadn't seen her bedroom yet.
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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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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.
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We need a ride. We're stranded. We still have two legs, leftie and rightie. Mine are in the mood for exercise. They feel like a nice long walk--ARE YOU CRAZY? she shrieked. I was standing with the tip of the beach umbrella aimed at the driver's-side window. What? I said. We have to get in.
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I shouldn't have been looking at lingerie. It naturally made me think about sexy things. Like kissing. Like Patch.
Becca Fitzpatrick
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I looked to the window. Patch was gone, but a single black feather was pressed to the outer pane, held in place by last night's rain. Or Angel Magic
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You’re crowding me. I need— room.”... What I needed were boundaries. I needed willpower. I needed to be caged up, since yet again I was proving I couldn’t be trusted in Patch’s presence. I should have been bolting for the door, and yet … I wasn’t.
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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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