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But then, he bloody smiles, and sweet baby Jesus, he has dimples for days.
A gloved hand lands on my shoulder as Zach pulls up alongside me. “Who’s the girl?” I don’t answer immediately as I’m still too mesmerized, but slowly, I open my mouth. “My angel.”
barf at the ‘my angel’ part specifically
They say comparison is the thief of all joy, and this is without a doubt stealing mine.
I try to bury my niggling doubts,
ur what???
“Felicity, believe me, I want in your pants. I can’t lie to you and say I don’t because I’m insanely attracted to you. But I have zero interest in getting you naked today if it means tomorrow, you won’t answer my calls. Because I will be calling you. I don’t know exactly what this is because I’ve never been in this position before. I just know I want to be in you and around you.”
“You think I’m just going to fall at your feet like every other woman before me?” He shakes his head gently, a tender smile tracing his lips. “No, Angel. That’s my job.”
OPE
Jon’s eyes sparkle. “Oh, is that right? Well, I need the details on this guy for making moves on my girl. Can’t say as I blame him for trying though.” My girl. My. Girl. Oh, Jesus.
At this point, I’m wondering whether to issue a missing persons ad because every ounce of feminism has abandoned me, and even more worrying—I’m not that mad about it either.
“I find it hard to believe that you’re not etched into the memory of everyone you meet since you’ve invaded every part of mine.”
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Felicity. I wanted to see you again tonight because I can’t bear the thought of you thinking for one single fucking second that I have eyes for anyone else. You’re all I see.”
Felicity Thompson is well and truly under my skin, her presence as permanent as a tattoo. As
your name will be spoken along with the likes of Gretzky.
there are literally other great hockey pros besides Wayne Gretzky PLS
The gods are clearly conspiring against me because there’s catnip, and then there are black backward caps.
i don’t get the cat nip part…
Jon’s brows crease together. “Had rules.” His hand darts out, his rough thumb gently brushing over my cheek. “I had rules, Felicity. I don’t anymore.” “Why not?” “Because you’re breaking them, Angel. One by one.”
“I see you, Felicity, all of you. Inside and out, and you’re so unbelievably stunning.”
any woman would give her left tit to be in my shoes.
and two bay windows each with seats, the perfect place to curl up with a book I imagine.
ahh there we go
“Date me.” “W-what?” “Date me, Angel. Let me show you how a man should be. Let me hold you, kiss you, take you out, and spoil you. Let me call you mine because, goddammit, I need to call you mine.”
Like, did you discover some magic formula to make book boyfriends a reality or something?
annnnnnnd no ty
dietician
i’ll let it slide since Felicity is from the UK and that’s how they spell it… this time…
“As in okay, okay?”
‘okay? okay.’ same shit different day
