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Kindle Notes & Highlights
God, I love his hands. The way he moves, the way his fingers find every spot on my body that gets me hot, the way he intuitively knows when to be gentle and slow… and when to push harder against me, to be strong and firm. Those hands do incredible things to me, and they’ve made me greedy and needy.
“You are the great love of my life that I’m never going to have.”
“You said something last night that was completely wrong. Sleeping together was not a mistake. Blythe. I could never touch anyone the way that I touch you. And I will never regret falling in love with you. Don’t forget that.”
“My heart is a stupid asshole.”
I would know him from any distance. I’m confused as to why this phrase recurs to me obsessively as I finish my quick laps. I’m convinced that I’m missing something in this thought, but I don’t know what.
