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I have my favorites to study and my favorites to read for fun. I have books I’d sell my soul to read again for the first time, and books that feel new each time I reread them. I have my favorite book I love to hate, and my favorite book I hate to love.”
“Well, Mac, I can say with certainty that one thing not a single soul knows about me is how much I want to kiss you right now.”
“Someday, Mac, you’re going to realize exactly how much I enjoy staring at you all day.”
“I’d take you on my team any day, Mac.” There’s something about the way he says it that curls my toes.
“That’s the beauty of literature. It makes us feel. Or maybe a better description is that it allows us to feel in a safe space.
“Honestly, all I heard was that you want this.”
“Don’t cover yourself. Don’t shrink away. You can say no to me, but don’t for one second think that you need to cower or feel embarrassed. You are fucking beautiful. You are beautiful tonight, and you were beautiful when I scared the shit out of you on your run, and you are beautiful every damn day from the minute you walk into my line of sight until the minute you walk out.” He
The honeymoon from the start of the school year is most definitely over, and students who haven’t been doing much all school year have either fully decided they won’t start or are panicked that they might fail and are trying to turn all of their late work in all at once.
These past few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind, but one thing I know clearly is that I want to be here with you, Mac. With all of you. Even the messy parts.”
“I have never wanted someone so completely in my entire life. And it was so wildly inappropriate because you had just spent a whole day grieving and crying, but all I could think about was how I could spend an entire lifetime holding you like that and be happy.
“You’re exquisite,” he breathes, barely audible. “I couldn’t write you if I tried.”
“There is not one thing you could say to me that would tear me from you right now.”
“You’re better than anything I could have imagined while writing that book.”
To M. M. who taught me I belong.
“When someone comes into our lives who sees into our souls in a way Mr. Evans’ manuscript would suggest he saw into yours, we hang on and don’t let go.”
