Faythe…?" The tremor in his voice broke my heart. Then understanding surfaced, and his tear-filled eyes searched mine desperately. "No. No," he whispered through clenched teeth. "This was not wrong. It’s the only thing I’ve done right in months. Don’t you dare regret this.

Ethan was loyal and funny and protective. When we were little, he was the brother most likely to make me cry—and mostly likely to wipe away my tears.

In the end, it only comes down to one thing: choosing the one you can’t live without.

Lit majors are not known for watching where they're going; most of us walk with our eyes in a book instead of on the path ahead.

Why is this so hard?” I whispered. His pulse leaped crazily at my admission. “Everything worth fighting for is hard.

I'd just stepped out of the kiddie pool and into the deep end, with no floaties. And drowning was not an option.

Uh, yeah, I do. The scythe was a little tricky at first, but—much like golf—turns out it’s all in the swing.