Wildfire (Maple Hills, #2)

by Hannah Grace

For all the romance books I’ve read and all the happy endings I’ve enjoyed, I can’t imagine my own. I’d like to hope I’ll have one, but hope can be dangerous.

“You’re taking it so well, sweetheart.” I work a little harder, clearly motivated by words and moans. “That’s it, good girl.”

WHY IS SAYING YOU’RE GOING to work on yourself easier than working on yourself?

“I don’t think I’d like being crushed by a hockey player, funnily enough.” “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” I say quietly without thinking.

Clay looks at me like he’s undressing me. Russ looks at me like I’m telling him the world’s most interesting story.

“I’m not going anywhere, but you don’t need me, Aurora. You’re strong and sweet and funny. You’re smart and affectionate and you’re all those things without me. You don’t need anyone but yourself, but you can have me anyway. I worry I’m going to fuck this up, too, but we have to trust ourselves as much as we trust each other.”

He kisses my forehead. “I want everything about you, Aurora.” My nose is next. “I want your smiles.” Then my jaw. “Your laughs.” My collarbone. “I want the way you ramble when you’re nervous.” The top of my breast. “I want your big reactions and your little ones.” The center of my stomach. “I want to watch you get frustrated at origami but carry on anyway because it makes you so happy.” My navel. “I want to protect you from possums and sharks and, sometimes, when you need it, yourself.” Finally, my hip bone. “And I want to want you because you’re worth it, sweetheart. And you make me feel good, too.”

cute awhhhhh