Girlfriend, if you're waiting for a fairy godmother to show up with a dress and a ride, you're not going to make it to the party.

...just a little touches her and there. He puts his hands on your arms or back, he stands close to you, getting you used to him... it's a mating ritual. Like March of the Penguins.

You’re far too prickly tempered to be a mistress. You’re far better suited as a wife.

It was likely that no one had been surprised, however, as it was clear that Aline and Mckenna belonged together. There was something invisible and yet irrefutable that made them a couple. Perhaps it was the way both of them stole quick glances at each other when one though the other wasn't looking... glances of wonder and hunger.

I scowled defensively. "My conversations don't usually include the subject of erections." "Too bad," he said. "All the best conversations do.

I still don’t get why I have to eat breakfast if you don’t,” Josie muttered. “Because you have to be a certain age to earn the right to ruin your own life.

To be honest," I halfwhispered, "I don't feel as safe with him as I do with you." "I know." A ghost of a smile touched my lips. "How do you know?" "Think about what safety is, Ella." "Trust?" "Yes, partly. But also an absence of risk." He unstuck a strand of hair from my damp cheek and tucked it back. "Maybe you need to take a risk. Maybe you need to be with someone who rattles you a little.