I strode toward Mr. Coffee with lust in my eyes. We'd had a thing for quite some time now Mr. Coffee and I.

Since I had a soft spot for zombies and my curiosity was killing me, I opted for plan Z.

He said you sparkle like a newborn galaxy and have more attitude than a rich kid with his daddy's Porsche.

Ask me about my complete lack of interest. (T-shirt)

Reyes leaned back against the bar, crossed his arms over his chest, and studied me from beneath those same ridiculously long lashes. Men and their freaking lashes. It was so unfair. Like the exorbitant cost of designer shoes. Or world hunger.

Wait, what are you doing?” She could apparently hear the strain in my voice as I craned my neck from side to side. “I’m trying to see past a little girl on my hood." “Oh. Isn’t that dangerous?” “Normally. But she has a knife.” “Oh, well, then, I guess it’s okay.

Reyes Farrow. Because perfection is a dirty job, but someone has to do it.