Whenever I appeared to have won an argument, Mom would say something like, 'Even broken clocks are right twice a day.

Everyone isn’t logical. Everything doesn’t make sense in the end. Sometimes you have to forget about explanations or excuses and leave people and places behind, because otherwise they will drag you straight down.

The night we met-I'm not like that guy." His jaw was rigid. "I know tha-" He placed a finger over my lips, his expression softening. "So I don't want you to feel pressured. Or overpowered. But I do, absolutely, want to kiss you right now. Badly.

No matter what happened to any individual person, life was going on elsewhere. The first time Kennedy kissed me, it stood to reason that at the same time, other people were splitting up. And the night Kennedy broke my heart, somewhere - maybe right there in my dorm, other people were falling in love.

Rather than raising his voice like everyone else, he leaned close to my ear and asked, "Dance with me?" I felt his warm breath and inhale the scent of his aftershave -something basic and male.

Wait." "Stop?" I bit my lip and nodded. "Stop everything, or just go no further?" "Just...just no further." "Done." He gathered me into his arms and kissed me, one hand tangled in my hair and the other one caressing down my back, our hearts pulsing out a cadence that the musician in me translated into a concert of lust.

My last coherent thought, as Lucas took his time kissing and touching every part of me he could reach and my body arched into his, was: oh... so this is what all the fuss is about.