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.
Becca FitzpatrickThis is crazy," I told Patch in an undertone. "I'm crazy." He was on the brink of smiling again. "About you.
Becca FitzpatrickDon’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.
Becca FitzpatrickI tended to be more a romantic than a realist, and chose blind faith over cold logic.
Becca Fitzpatrick