It was a Friday night, she was at a club, and a good-looking man was currently giving her the I-want-to-take-you-home-and-I-hope-I-last-longer-than-five-minutes look… and she was thinking about pie, a young adult book, and feeding her cat. She was so turning into the cat lady at twenty-seven. Sweet.

I want you. Bad. Right now. Against the wall. On my bed. The floor and maybe in the bathroom later. I have a shower stall and a Jacuzzi we could put to really good use. I know you'd like it.

I’ll accept your apology on one condition.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Anything?” “You trust me.

It's like we're a catastrophe waiting to happen.

My dream had been shattered, but then re-created, fashioned into something with more meaning and becoming more precious.

He raised his brows. "You're drunk." "Am not!" He gave me a bland look. "A drunk's famous last words before they fall flat on their face.

Actually, I'm going to nerd out on you, so prepare.