Wrecked (Dirty Air, #3)

by Lauren Asher

“Virgo. A.k.a. the best one.”

Valid take

“My guess is porcelain dolls watching you while you have mundane sex. You scream creepy doll addiction since they kind of look like you: vacant and small.”

Using this as my next insult

I want to change because someone who has every reason to walk away refuses to leave my side. And this is how I come to the realization that I need to save myself.

“Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, so I might as well make today my bitch.”

I cough and elbow Caleb. “Tell her how pretty she looks.” He rolls his eyes at me. “Amateur. I’ll do you one better.” He steps behind the couch and pulls out a dozen long-stemmed roses.

hahaha

I don’t want to fall in love, but damn if her smile doesn’t make the crash landing worth it.

“Fuck the usual. I don’t want to be picture-perfect with you. I want to be a fucking mosaic, made up of broken pieces so damn colorful, you can’t help finding them beautiful.”

“What’s wrong? I thought you would like The Hunger Games.” He grimaces.

dude thats so roughhh bc it was actually a cute idea

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” The words leave my lips in the faintest whisper. He keeps quiet for a solid minute. I second-guess myself, but he squeezes me tighter into him. “Elena?” “Mm.” I copy him. “I already know I am.”

“Lie. I’m happy without you.” He sighs. “I don’t think of you at all. I don’t wake up every morning, dreaming you’re there, only to realize none of it is real. Lies, lies, lies.”