Ugh! Erin. You have a one-track mind." She smiled deviously. "I prefer to think of it as target-driven.

Brooke?” I puff out a sigh. “For chrissake, Reid, who do you think it is? And haven’t you put me into your contacts yet?” “Yeah... It just says Satan, though, and I forgot I’d assigned that title to you.

The exception is I'm not going away. Don't ask me to do that ever again.

Something about first love defies duplication. Before it, your heart is blank. Unwritten. After, the walls are left inscribed and graffitied. When it ends, no amount of scrubbing will purge the scrawled oaths and sketched images, but sooner or later, you find that there’s space for someone else, between the words and in the margins.

That macho protective bullshit is just some asshat man pissing on his territory so the other dogs will stay away.

As for being somewhere you're not supposed to be - maybe you're here for a reason, or there is no reason.

Not. Your. Fault." I nodded again, holding onto his words like they were redemption.