Let’s be honest, Nora. You’ve got it bad for me." His eyes held a lot of depth. "And I’ve got it bad for you.
Becca FitzpatrickMots clés fallen-angels
Patch stood over me, and a drop of rain slid from his hair, landing like ice on my collarbone. I felt it slide along my skin, disappearing beneath the neckline of my shirt. His eyes followed the raindrop, and I began to quiver on the inside.
Becca FitzpatrickMots clés fallen-angels
The only thing a boyfriend was good for was a shattered heart.
Becca FitzpatrickMots clés broken-heart
Thinking. A process by which I use my brain to make a rational decision.
Becca FitzpatrickMots clés patch-cipriano
Holy freak show!
Becca FitzpatrickMots clés humour becca-fitpatrick vee-sky
Patch was dressed in the usual: black shirt, black jeans and a thin silver necklace that flashed against his dark complexion. His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, and I could see his muscles working as he punched buttons. He was tall and lean and hard, and I wouldn't have been surprised if under his clothes he bore several scars, souvenirs from street fights and other reckless behavior.
Not that I wanted a look under his clothes.
Patch’s eyes were black orbs. Taking in everything and giving away nothing.
Becca FitzpatrickMots clés awsum
Because I thought I was in love. And when you think you're in love, you are willing to stick it out and make it work until it is love.
Becca FitzpatrickI trailed off. Patch leaned lazily against the counter. Dark hair flipped out from under his ball cap. A smile tugged at his mouth. My thoughts dissolved and just like that, a new thought broke the surface of my mind.
I wanted to kiss him. Right now.
I shouldn't have been looking at lingerie. It naturally made me think about sexy things. Like kissing. Like Patch.
Becca FitzpatrickMots clés nora
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