I see who I am reflected in your eyes. I know what you think about me. But what if I told you, you were wrong?
Jenny B. JonesThe boy was a trained actor, letting me see only what he wanted me to.
Jenny B. JonesIn all these things, I am more than victorious through Him who loves me.
Jenny B. JonesWe know fun. Like two weekends ago we stayed up all night watching a documentary marathon on the brain.” She rolled her eyes toward Erin. “We’re positively wild.
Jenny B. JonesYou’re not too bad, Finley Sinclair.”
I couldn’t have looked away from this boy if the room had caught on fire. “You’re okay yourself. At times.”
“But we can’t get involved.”
“No.” I swallowed. “Definitely not.”
His face lowered a fraction of an inch. “Because I’m infamously bad.”
“And I’m staying away from trouble.”
His voice was rough, husky. “It would never work.” I took a step closer. “Impossible.”
He traced my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “We don’t even like each other." “I pretty much can’t stand you.”
And then his lips crushed to mine.
Any pub will do?”
“McPherson’s, I think. One with music that will alter my life forever, give me eternal happiness, and make me see God. You know. One like that.”
“So you need the magical sound of Ireland and some information about an Abbeyglen native. Francine”—Beckett’s eyes danced in the streaming sunlight—“I’m about to solve your every problem.” Beckett stood up and gave my hair a light tug. “Prepare to worship and adore me.
And as for girls who try to stay away from me—my charm always wears them down.”
“I’m up-to-date on my shots, so I’m pretty much immune to everything.
Are you ready for me to read?” I took her outstretched cup and placed it on the bedside table.
“I was ready ten minutes ago. If you wait any longer I’ll have time to write a novel meself.
Tags: finley mrs-sweeney
The least you could do is offer a little conversation.” Beckett dodged a pothole, keeping his eyes on the road.
“You want me to talk?”
“It would be the polite thing to do.”
“Okay. Let’s talk.”
“Any topic will be fine.”
“I’m going to sit here and silently think of one. Might take a while.
You sounded down on the phone yesterday. You can talk to your old dad about anything, you know. Except boys. And bras. And that Bieber fellow.
—Dad
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