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Em didn't truly understand about my panic attacks - no one did. But she'd never pushed me to explain, never tried to ditch me when things got weird, and never once looked at me like I was a freak.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
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He shrugged, looking right into my eyes. Right now, this is all I feel. He held our intertwined hands up for me to see and I wanted to look away, but I couldn't break the hold his gaze had on me, like he could see more than anyone else saw. Things I couldn't see myself.
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There’s an us?” “As far as I’m concerned…” He leaned forward, his mouth inches from mine, and my pulse spiked. “There’s nothing but us.
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Did you think you could dump me, and I'd bounce back to her and miraculously be happy? I'm not a Ping-Pong ball. You can't just swat me back and forth and expect me to be content wherever I land. If Tod dumped you tomorrow, would you come back to me?
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I live to serve. except the part about living...
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Her dark-eyed glare narrowed on me. You could have least given him a shirt, Kaylee. Like you're an expert on when it's appropriate to wear a shirt. Sabine bristled. This seems headed into girl-fight territory, Tod said. Should I make popcorn?
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But more than any of that, I was thankful for the possibility he'd shown me: that a man really could love a woman enough that he'd do anything to protect her. That's how much Tod loved Addy. That's how much I wanted Nash to love me.
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Well that's too bad, because this is an assassination. No, this is an execution. The difference would be...? Assassination is murder. Execution is justice.
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Near-death experiences release a lot of endorphins, resulting in a natural high, Tod whispered. And it's totally true that one passion feeds another. You know we're way past 'near-death', right? My endorphins aren't listening to you.
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The problem with getting everything you want in life is that you're not prepared for disappointment when it comes.
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Wait, Saturday night? The ladder-backed chair creaked and I looked up as he leaned forward to eye me in growing suspicion. I thought you stayed home. I shrugged and raised one eyebrow at him. I thought I was human.
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If I weren't already dead, I'd be alive with joy.
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She wasn't feeling nothing. She was feeling too much. She was blocking it all out. That was a survival skill, and her still-beating heart was proof that it worked.
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You don't know me. Don't ever think you know me. The only things you know about me are the things you made me do, and that illustrates your character, not mine.
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... you just turned down the woman who put a marshmallow duck in your hot chocolate. I hope you feel like a real asshole now.
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So, did the costume come with a condom, or is that sold separately?
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I wanted a do over. A time machine. That magic wand. But real life didn't have any easy outs, and very few happily-ever-afters. The real world was more like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, with most of the choices ripped out before you even opened the cover.
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Wow, Liv said, when I dropped the mallet back into the drawer. That looked like fun. I call dibs on the next over-the-top destruction of evidence.
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Suggestions? I asked [...] Marc never took his gaze from the cage. Get the hose.
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So you’re saying the afterlife is hard on the libido? FYI, that’s probably not a good bullet point for your recruiting brochure.
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I realized that I'd rather die with you than live with someone else.
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