Flattery is nothing but attention without intention.
Mary LindseyHis hair was still wet, and he was in a black long-sleeved T-shirt and tattered blue jeans. His feet were bare. Casual. Comfortable. Gorgeous.
Mary LindseyHe rolled me under him to kiss me. It wasn't a gentle kiss like at the beach, or passionate kiss like the one that happened in his room. It was desperate. Desperate and hungry and sad.
A good-bye kiss.
You can stick to your immovable zero-tolerance rules, but I'm going to stick to the motto "There's hope until the last second'!
Mary LindseyMy throat tightened when I noticed a small tattoo of an origami rose on his upper arm. . .
"Hey, Lenzi," he whispered, barely louder than the surf.
"Rose," I said as our lips met. "My name is Rose.
. . . I love the school uniform. You have great legs."
"Shut up!" I gasped. "I thought you were an old man!"
"Old soul. Young man. Big difference. . .
Alden seems like a very nice boy. The kind of boy I'd like to see you hanging out with." I almost laughed out loud. If she only knew! A reincarnated, soul-sharing lunatic. Ghost Boy---every mother's dream.
Mary LindseyI can just imagine the recruiting poster. 'Ghost whisperers wanted: no experience necessary. Death wish and masochistic tendencies a must.
Mary LindseyWait, Alden. I really don't want to meet your friends dressed like this." "They're your friends too. And you look fantastic. I love the school uniform. You have great legs."
"Shut up!" I gasped. "I thought you were and old man!"
"Old soul. Young man. Big difference. It's okay, though; we're just friends, remember?
Alden walked me to the door and we stood outside uncomfortably---like it was the end of a first date. Was letting a host share your body and then chowing down on Chinese takeout a date? He was waiting for me to say good-bye, looking as nervous as I felt. Should I shake his hand or kiss him good night on the cheek? Maybe I should act like Spook and just lick his face.
Mary LindseyPagina 1 di 3.
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