Girl, I'm going to show you the bear in hug.

You find the wrong boy, you ask for trouble. You find the right boy, you find love.

Wouldn't have pegged you for a dancer," he spoke to my mind "Funny, I would have pegged you for a stalker," I shot back.

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.

Father' is such an arbitary word. Douche bag, on the other hand.

He grinned when I didn't protest, and lowered his mouth toward mine. The first touch was just that - a touch. A teasing, tempting softness. I licked my lips and Patch's grin deepened. "More?" he asked. I curled my hands into his hair, pulling him closer. "More.

Patch’s eyes were black orbs. Taking in everything and giving away nothing.