I'm yours, if you'll have me.

Call me Patch. I mean it. Call me.

He nuzzles my neck affectionately. "I love you. I'm happier right now than I ever remember being.

That’s an unfortunate place for a birthmark,” I said, more than a little unnerved that it was so similarly positioned to my own scar. Patch casually but noticeably slid his sleeve down over his wrist. “You’d prefer it someplace more private?” “I wouldn’t prefer it anywhere.” I wasn’t sure how this sounded and tried again. “I wouldn’t care if you didn’t have it at all.” I tried a third time. “I don’t care about your birthmark, period.

Do you think the Bible is accurate? I mean, do you think it's real?" " I think Pastor Calvin is hot. In a fortysomething way. That pretty much sums up my religious conviction

There´s my date, I said. "Fashionably late." Nora (p. 232)

You smell good, too,” said Patch It’s called a shower.” I was staring straight ahead. When he didn’t answer, I turned sideways. “Soap. Shampoo. Hot water.” Naked. I know the drill.