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384 pages, Paperback
First published February 2, 2016
“Are you a good monster, or a bad monster, Luke Sutter?”
“Can’t I be both?”
A predictable life never changed anyone.
You’ve dialed down the flirtation tonight, but you’re acting like a robot. It’s like you have two settings: pickup artist or awkward.
“Are you a good monster, or a bad monster, Luke Sutter?”
“Can’t I be both?”
F*ck, I think I finally figured it out: falling in love isn’t about who makes you feel the best, but who could make you the most miserable if they leave.
“Sex with a guy like Luke is supposed to mean multiple orgasms and a smile you have to explain to your friends the next day. It’s also supposed to be a one-time thing.”
“Luke seems to get me, better than I like to let him believe. Unfortunately, he’s flaky, has douchey friends, is a womanizer, and–after this morning’s drama?–completely off-limits.”
“I’m thinking that you’re mine…”
“Fucking all yours.”
"Can I ovulate from a kiss?"
“I think you don't like how much you like me," I say, unable to keep from smiling. “You can't fit me into your Barfly Box of Shame. You want to dismiss me as a dickhead player, but then you think I'm hot and fun and you like watching me eat nachos.”
London turns her face back up to me, smirking. “Nailed it.”
“Apt phrase.” I pause, tossing another chip into my mouth before saying, “You sort of want to kiss me right now.”
There’s so many ways to love this girl. Good God, let me find each and every one.
“Please,” I rub my thumb over the back of her hand. “Let me show you that I’m not the guy you think I am.”
I finally figured it out: falling in love isn't about who makes you feel the best, but who could make you the most miserable if they leave.
Following me with his eyes, he asks, “So is this no-dating-guys-you-meet-at-work thing, like, an actual rule?”
“Sort of.” I fold the bar towel and tuck it into the back of my apron, meeting his eyes.
“What if I promised I was absolutely worth it?”
Luke is managing to break down my walls one smile at a time. Being with him feels a little like letting go of the handlebars and racing down a hill. And it also feels like being wrapped up in the warmest blanket.
How can he feel both like an adventure and a comfort?
It’s sex, but it’s not.
It’s sex, but it’s more.
There are so many ways to love this girl; good God, let me find each and every one of them.