I, Roman Irvine, am in love with April McIntyre. I love her, even though she’s moody, spoiled, and slightly high maintenance. I love her, even though she refuses to acknowledge how kind-hearted and selfless than she is. I love her, and she’s the only girl that I could ever want in my life.

He takes my face in his hands and presses his lips against mine – a tender, beautiful kiss – the kiss I’ve waited for forever. He quickly pulls his shirt over his head and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of his muscular body and smooth skin. He pushes Ordinary gently to the bottom of the bunk and climbs in next to me. Wrapping his arms around me, he lays his head next to mine. At last, we sleep.' ...from Notes on a Rebellion

Whatever you do, please don’t do anything reckless. These are very powerful people, some of which are very dangerous.” She hesitates, then continues. “This is a government agency, and you’re just…” She trails off, and I have a feeling that I know what she’s going to say.“I’m just an office assistant,” I mutter, repeating Gideon’s words.“No. I was going to say that you’re too in love with my daughter to think rationally.

The game seemed to be speeding up, building on itself. Right around the deaths of Tess and Selena, I’d met the Sun.Were we spinning to an end?

I plant a gentle parting kiss on his lips, our strategy is well and truly screwed at this stage anyway. We barely lasted a day.

My romantic history since arriving on Novo has been non-existent, but I don't know what, if anything, came before; thanks to the government's cerebral pilfering.

You’re easy to read, Ivy, but the whole book of you is complicated.

My mission is not to make him happy and bear his children and be his wife. My mission is to kill him.

I work my way through the rest of my dates, but I'm only there in body. The boys usually give up after the first hour; it's difficult to have a conversation all by yourself. My ratings plummet, but at least my air-time is minimal now, I'm not offering much in the way of entertainment these days.

The Suitors Ball is fast approaching and it's a nasty reminder that my suitor will be chosen shortly. I feel sorry for the poor unfortunate guy, whichever one of them it happens to be.

I'm already under the covers when he comes in. I watch as he takes off his shirt and jeans, and climbs into bed beside me. On any other occasion, the sight and feel of his near naked body would send my blood pressure into orbit, but I'm so exhausted by the events of today that I'm incapable of feeling anything even close to desire. And he doesn't ask anything of me.

Zane looks pensive, and then his lips twitch. “They say most girls end up marrying a guy just like their dad.”“Oh God … That’s so lame,” I say, spluttering as coffee dribbles down my chin. “I believe it’s a tried and tested theory,” he says, standing up and wiping my chin with the back of his hand. I jolt at his touch.“Now it’s a theory? I thought it was a saying? Next you’ll be telling me it’s a fact.” I flop back down on the couch.“Empirical evidence shows that sixty-eight percent of girls marry a guy who displays similar personality traits to her father ...” His voice trails off as I shake my head. “What?” he asks, his palms open and raised.“You really need to get out more. Where’d you glean that interesting nugget? The desperate men’s journal perhaps?

For the first time, with complete clarity and absolute conviction, I know I love him entirely with all that I have, everything I am, and who I’m going to be. Of course, I’ve told him before, but not like this, not with the fierce swelling of love and fervent determination that I feel ebbing and flowing inside me, as vital as the air I breathe. Before—when I said it—it was borne out of immaturity, or necessity, or maybe just plain old lust. Now I radiate with the veracity of my love and this newfound truth that we really are meant to be.

Never take offense. Even if someone is robbing you blind, it’s usually nothing personal. Survival is a funny thing, and we all react differently to it. Some react to fear and forget to be human and humane, but that doesn’t mean they have malicious intentions. People have different boundaries, and I promise to respect yours, hon.

Oh, oh. My heart starts that quivering, fluttering thing it does whenever he hints at his desire for me. Lacing his fingers through mine, he moves to close the gap between us. I know he’s only holding my hand, but it’s the manner in which his fingers curl around mine, and the way his eyes bore into me that makes it seem much more intimate.

I won’t pressure you, Ari, but I’m not opposed to subtle acts of persuasion.

Shunting closer, I snuggle into his chest, soaking up his fresh woodsy scent. His arms encircle me and pull me close. “You always smell like home,” I whisper under my breath. Smooth, soft fingers tilt my chin upward, and I’m startled when my face meets his. Tears glisten in his eyes as he looks at me adoringly. Pressing his forehead to mine, he kisses me sweetly, his lips making brisk tantalizing sweeps across my mouth.“My heart is your home,” he whispers, his voice breathless. “It always will be.

There’s a part of me that recognizes him on a cellular level, a part that seeks his comfort and solace, that feels more than comfortable in his arms. And when he stares at me with that deep penetrating gaze of his, my body reacts in all the right, and wrong, ways.

Heaviness coats my brain, and I’m surprised at the turn in our conversation; we’re getting into the deep stuff. “Right now, you and me? This feels like fate, if fate can be felt.

No offense, doll, but that’s not something I’m willing to share. I’d prefer to live a long and happy life if it’s all the same to you.”“You can’t just throw out vague allegations and then say nothing else!”“See, that’s the good thing about being a fugitive like me. I can do what the hell I like, and I’m not answerable to anyone.” Stepping away from the bars, he stands with his legs stretched out wide. His stance matches his grin.“Sure looks like that’s working out well for you,” I say, piercing him with a scornful look.

He’s a lovely guy, but there’s no spark between us whatsoever. It just goes to show, that even with all their fancy assessment tools, the government can’t legislate for chemistry.

I wouldn’t change a thing. I want you. I’ll always want you.

He is the biggest asshole on the planet,” Jarod says. “And in a planet that’s currently drowning in assholes, that’s saying a lot.