Picking Daisies on Sundays (Picking Daisies on Sundays, #1)

by Liana Cincotti

“I thought your twenties were supposed to be about finding yourself and traveling and making these big career moves—not missing a guy, eating pizza on the couch, and still crying over insecurities from high school.”

But he kept glancing back at her, like he couldn’t believe she existed, like she was the only one in the room,”

“I’ll buy you flowers every day for the rest of my life if it makes you this happy.”

“I want an all-consuming love. Not one that suffocates, but one that makes me so thankful that my chest feels physically overwhelmed with emotion. To have this silent, unspoken communication with a person through touch and gazes.”

“I want to be noticed in a crowded room. I want to be the only person in a crowded room. I want to be wanted, truly wanted, and desired. I want to laugh and to sing and to dance with someone and not feel self-conscious over it because I love them and I’m confident that they love me. I want to be touched and kissed and held because I’ve forgotten what it feels like … and yet, I think I deserve it.”