They say that when you're about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. They never tell you that when you watch someone you once loved dying, hovering between this life and the next, it's twice as painful, because you're reliving two lives that traveled one road together.

I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep beside you each night,” Patch told me gravely. “I want to take care of you, cherish you, and love you in a way no other man ever could. I want to spoil you — every kiss, every touch, every thought, they all belong to you. I’ll make you happy. Every day, I’ll make you happy.

Any happiness, no matter how brief, seemed better than the long, simmering torture of waking up day after day, knowing I could never have him.

It didn't escape me that he couldn't seem to stop finding reasons to touch me. Nor did I miss that I didn't want him to stop.

Try it on." "It's probably a little snug," I said, suddenly feeling conspicuous. "Marcie tends to buy down when it comes to sizing." He merely smiled. "It has a slit up the thigh." His smile deepened.

I think I'm more of a guardian angel girl.

My most noticeable physical trait is, hands down, my hair. It's big, unruly and curly, and you can spot it from a mile away... literally.