Patch was dressed in the usual: black shirt, black jeans and a thin silver necklace that flashed against his dark complexion. His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, and I could see his muscles working as he punched buttons. He was tall and lean and hard, and I wouldn't have been surprised if under his clothes he bore several scars, souvenirs from street fights and other reckless behavior. Not that I wanted a look under his clothes.
Becca FitzpatrickHuman reproduction can be a sticky subjectโโ โEwww!โ groaned a chorus of students
Becca FitzpatrickPatch smiled. โYou come by your red hair naturally?โ I stared at him. โI donโt have red hair.โ โI hate to break it to you, but itโs red. I could light it on fire and it wouldnโt turn any redder.
Becca FitzpatrickAnthony raised his red plastic cup to me and shouted something, but it was too hard to hear over the music. โWhat?โ I called back. โYou look great!โ A goofy smile was plastered on his face. โOh boy,โ Vee said. โNot just a pimp, but a smashed pimp.โ โSo maybe heโs a little drunk.โ โDrunk and hoping to corner you alone in a bedroom upstairs.โ Ugh.
Becca FitzpatrickIf anyone were to find outโโ I began. Patch kissed me, hard, but with an amused glint in his eye. โIf I get caught, itโll mean the end of kissing you. Do you really think Iโd risk that?โ His face grew serious. โI know I canโt feel your touch, but I feel your love, Nora. Inside me. It means everything to me. I wish I could feel you the same way you feel me, but I have your love. Nothing will ever outweigh that. Some people go their entire lives never feeling the emotions youโve given me. There is no regret in that.
Becca Fitzpatrick