The question is… How did a girl like Annabelle manage to talk a man like you into joining our silly little family party?” Annabelle smiled sweetly. “I promised he could tie me up afterward and spank me.

If you think I'm going to cry all over your chest because you don't feel the same way, you're wrong. I don't beg for anybody's love.

All it means is that, while our minds may have trouble communicating, our bodies don't have any problem at all." "I don't think it's that simple." "Sure it is." "The earth moved," she said softly. "That has to be more than bodies communicating.

Something snapped inside her. “Of course I’m afraid! Relationships do bad things to me.” He started to respond, but the pain had gone on long enough, and she didn’t want to hear it. “You know what I want? I want peace. I want a good job and a decent place to live. I want to read books and listen to music and have time to make some female friendships that are going to last. When I wake up in the morning, I want to know that I have a decent shot at being happy. And here’s what’s really sad. Until I met you, I was almost there.

I don't love you anymore", she whispered. "I don't love you at all." His throat closed. "It's all right, sweetheart. I love you enough for both of us.

We’re all works in progress, honey. And believe me when I tell you that I’ve had to work harder than most.

You're beautiful, every part of you. I love your hair, the way it looks, the way it feels. I love touching it, smelling it. I love the way you wrinkle your nose when you laugh. It makes me laugh, too, every time. And I love watching you eat. Sometimes you can't shovel it in fast enough, but when you get interested in a conversation, you forget there's anything in front of you. God knows, I love making love with you. I can't even talk about that without wanting you. I love your pathetic attachment to those seniors. I love how hard you work.