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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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 fiddle with my hands, peering up at him again, and all I can think is, God, I wish he’d stop staring at me like that.

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

I chew my food, leaning back into the couch. “I loved him. That’s what dumb girls do.”“You aren’t dumb.”I try to hold back my smile. “I’m hanging out with you, aren’t I?

The truth is, I always want to kiss you.

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

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

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

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

A wicked curve appears on his lips. “No, you’re wrong. I’m allowed to say whatever I want. What I’m not allowed to do is what I want.