The silence was killing me. And that's all there ever was. Silence. It was all I knew. Keep quiet. Pretend nothing had happened, that nothing was wrong. And look how well that was turning out.

Oh, honey, if he swung batter-batter for my team, I'd be all over that in a heartbeat.

I’m just not interested.” “Do you have ovaries?” Jacob asked. I shot him a look. “Yes.” … “Then how are you not interested.

Are you sure?" A brow arched up. "Because I'm here at your service and taking your jeans off is something I feel I'd be exceptionally wonderful at.

I kind of missed the whole running into each other thing. Provided a lot of excitement." "I don't miss that," I admitted, bending over and rummaging through my bag for my notebook. "That was really embarrassing." "It shouldn't have been." "Easy for you to say. You're the one who got plowed. I was doing the plowing." Cam's mouth opened. Oh my God, did I really just say that? I had.

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.

You’re a good guy, Cam.” “No, I’m not.” He exhaled deeply and his breath was warm against my cheek. “I’m only good with you.