Easy for you to say. You’re the one who got plowed. I was doing the plowing.

Whoa," Brit breathed, handing my drink back to me. "That was..." "Really hot," Jacob finished. "I thought you two were going to rip off each other's clothes and start making babies right here on the dirty, beer covered floor. Like I was going to have to start charging admission for what was about to go down.

Remind me," he paused, drawing in a stuttered gasp, "to never piss you off again. Christ, are you secretly a ninja?

I could stare at you for a lifetime. It would never grow old." "Even when I'm old?" "Even then.

Am I going to have to carry you? If so, it would complete my badass knight-in-shining-armor act with you today.

You've been checking me out, haven't you? In between your flaming insults? I feel like man candy.

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.