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.

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.

We are your friends. It is the law of friendship that you tell us things you don’t want to tell us.

Within a few short hours, he nearly had me agreeing to try deer jerky for the first time. Almost. If it weren't for Cam continuously whispering "Bambi" in my ear every couple of minutes, I would've caved.

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

You do know him, so that's a lame excuse." It was a lame excuse, but it was the best I had. "How do you really ever truly know someone?" Brit smacked her hands to her cheeks and she shook her head. "He's not a serial killer." "Speaking of serial killers, everyone thought Ted Bundy was a really charming, handsome man. And look how he turned out. Psycho." Jacob stared at me. "He's not Ted Bundy.

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