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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.
Becca Fitzpatrick
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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Nothing
Whatever
Way
Simple
Would
Words
Time
Felt
Painfully
Love
Three
Patch
Else
Patches
Happens
Inadequate
Wanted
Accurate
More quotes by Becca Fitzpatrick
Vee scowled at him. She is famous for that scowl. It's a look that does everything but audibly hiss.
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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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There was nothing wrong with fire … as long as you didn’t stand too close. Something to keep in mind.
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Maybe Scotty the Potty turned into Scotty the Hottie. Have you thought about that?
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Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn't.
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I saw you, and I wanted to be close to you. I wanted you to let me in. I wanted to know you in a way no one else did. I wanted you, all of you.
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I’m doing boy detox. Like a diet, only for my emotional health.
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I think I'm more of a guardian angel girl.
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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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I know you followed me. Don't look so surprised. It's called a rearview mirror.
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Nothing makes me happy quite like a boatload of freshly fried fast food, smothered in good old MSG.
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Arrogance can be deadly.
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If I were thinking straight, I'd take you home right now.
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Patch smiled. “You come by your red hair naturally?” I stared at him. “I don’t have red hair.” “I hate to break it to you, but it’s red. I could light it on fire and it wouldn’t turn any redder.
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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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You never know what you're going to have to face, so you'd better be prepared.
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The guy I've got my eye on happens to be hot. Off-the-charts hot. Hotter-than-Patch hot.' She paused. 'Well maybe not that hot. Nobody's that hot.
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I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower. He grinned, hopping off the bike. Now that is an invitation.
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Your name?” I repeated, hoping it was my imagination that my voice faltered. “Call me Patch. I mean it. Call me
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Don’t start. I saw Marcie climb inside your Jeep.” “She needed a ride.” I adopted a hands-on-hips pose. “What kind of ride?” “Not that kind of ride,” he said slowly.
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