He’s so pretty it hurts.

Morning, roomie.” His voice is like a shot of caffeine that ignites my body. How does he do that?

We are all trying to get over the person who broke our hearts. We are all far from perfect.

Our scars make us who we are. Some scars are just deeper than others.

I have worked too damn hard encasing that beating life force into a steel box.

He tangles his hand in my hair, and the other cups my jaw. Although I have this all planned, his lips feel shockingly sweet, swollen and soft, and more like home every time

You better get used to touchy-feely around here, sweetie

It’s an obvious challenge, but the risk feels too big, the leap too grand, the future too unknown

The truth is, I always want to kiss you.

I’m glad we can be friends.”There’s that word again. It’s like a safe word.

I’m hanging out with you, aren’t I?

Jealous much, Matthews? Is it because I’m a favorite, or is it because you still want me?

you think I am going to give up now? I’m so close.

Every time his lips meet mine, my whole body begins a slow tingle that starts from within my chest, and spreads like a wildfire.

No, you’re wrong. I’m allowed to say whatever I want. What I’m not allowed to do is what I want.

I didn’t know who I was or who I wanted to be until you stumbled into my life. I refuse to let you go.

Are women literal creatures? I have to admit this is not my forte.

I can’t tell if wanting you is selfish or stupid.

I’m afraid if I say what I am thinking, it will be too much too soon.

Two things compel me to move. First, the fear of being alone. I don’t want to be alone here. Second, the aching need to beat Blake in any way.

I almost feel bad for declining, but I feel more terrible that I can’t stop looking at how his chest rises and falls with each of his frustrated breaths.

He doesn’t let me argue further as he returns to his room. I pray for my sanity that he clothes himself, because the last thing I need is the image of Blake’s naked torso dripping...

The way he looks at me makes me ache, but it isn’t fair. He hurt me first. He caused this ache from the start. This inside out, churning pain that feels mental and physical now.I...

I can’t believe I wrote that many words in a row.

I half hoped he would be shirtless, but then wanted to smack myself at the ridiculous secret confession.

Please don’t trouble yourself with my scars. At least not right now, OK?

I mean, aren’t we all tormented by past relationships?