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“What’s your favorite book?” Doubt colors my voice. “If you have a favorite, I don’t trust you. Any book lover has at least five they can name off the top of their head.” His blue eyes hold mine.
“A man who prefers to live in a fantasy. How cute.” “I’d be your best fantasy, no book needed.”
“You’re no princess. You’re a motherfucking queen. Don’t let anyone forget it, not even yourself. People think the king matters, but the queen brings down all the other pieces. Good luck in uni, and chug a beer in my honor.”
“You guys should pay for my therapy because a psychologist would have a field day with this shit.”
Why the fuck would God play such a cruel joke, snuffing out one life while saving another?
Clearly, I’m getting more A’s than orgasms at my university.
Men should be the least of his worries because, excuse my language, but I’m ready to fuck shit up.
“Let me have that. It’s nothing, just a shopping list.” My voice fails to hide how horrified I feel.
“Unlike nice guys, bad boys always finish last. Every. Single. Time. And there are plenty of repeats.”
“See, Sophie, I drive like I fuck. Slow, then fast, then slow again until you’re all out of gas. I treat my car like a lover, stroking her before I enter her, only offering the best kind of foreplay for my girl. I don’t recklessly race because I prefer to be attentive. I fuck like I do everything else, with precision and strength—control and care.”
Life is about learning to share the burden of your problems with others. It might feel all fine and dandy now to hide, but secrets have a way of getting to us all. And sometimes, the greatest lies aren’t the ones we tell ourselves; they’re the ones we believe time and time again despite all the evidence proving us wrong. So share your secrets or keep them inside. The choice is yours. But just know that shit will eat away at you until you’re shrinking at your own shadow too.”
“But remember this. I want to get to know all of you, including the parts you’re too scared to share. I want to learn about the man no one else knows. So give me every part of you because I’m not here to piece you back together. I like you too much, just the way you are, broken parts and all.”
“That’s my fear with someone like you. You take and take until I have nothing left to give. You’d be easy to fall in love with until you walk away, breaking my heart in the process.” She whispers the words like saying them softer makes them less scary.
Basically, to put it short, Liam is fine as fuck. Screw looking like a Ken doll when he fits the expectations of a G.I. Joe action figure reporting for Operation O.
“My beautiful angel. Too wicked for heaven, too good for hell.” I may be his beautiful angel, but he’s my masked devil—too naughty for my heart, too irresistible for my body.
Liking Sophie is kind of like jumping out of a plane. Exhilarating, addicting, and damn near impossible to forget.
Because life is funny that way, fucking you over without your consent.
Turns out I was the lost prince and she saved me with glitter sneakers and a sword crafted from love and selflessness.