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“It’s called using my mam’s ThighMaster, bitch,”
“You’re honestly trying to tell me that those two aren’t in love?” “I never said they weren’t in love.” Chuckling, she added, “Only that they’re not together.”
Not my monkeys, not my circus.
“Be here with you and not be with you,”
While the rest of his friends had long since abandoned their girlfriends and dates, Gibsie hadn’t taken more than three steps away from Claire all night.
Our eyes met, green on green, and he winked at me from across the room. And just like that, I was ruined.
“You can’t tell me what to do, Joe,” I growled, feeling a combination of drunk and dizzy. “You don’t own me.” “Well, that’s bad fucking luck on my account, because you sure as shit own me!” Drunk or not, his words hit me like a wrecking ball to the chest. Feeling the air whoosh from my lungs, I glared up at him, feeling a torrent of emotions crashing through me. “Why would you say that to me?” “Because it’s the truth.” “Since when?” “Since I was twelve.”
Because every part of me loved every part of her. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
“It’s you,” he repeated gruffly, fingers tightening on my waist. “I pick you. Every single time.”
“I’ll love you the right way this time,” he whispered, and his breath fanned my cheek. “If you’ll show me how.”
“I’m not your mother or your sister. I’m not another girl who needs something from you. I’m the girl who wholeheartedly wants you. I’m the girl who wholeheartedly loves you. The hurler. The mechanic. The boy. The protector. The asshole. The lover. The addict.”
Because I’ve never been your enemy,” I squeezed out. “I’ve always been your teammate.”
“Because I’m only doing life for you.”
“I’ve loved your daughter for six years,” Joey finally broke his silence by saying. “I can easily love her for another eighteen.”
My Joey was still inside the person strung out next to me. And I loved him enough to keep fighting for him. Even when he’d given up on himself.
