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“But we can’t let one bad experience sour the rest of our lives. We can’t let the bad win. Make us stop living. If we lock ourselves down, we don’t just keep out the bad. We keep out the good, too.”
“Because everything about you screams that you’ve been fighting alone for too damn long, Thorn. You need someone to help carry the weight for a little while. I might not be able to fix everything, but I can help carry the load.”
It was pathetic how happy I was about her asking me a single question.
“I like you. Even when you were prickly as all hell, I admired it. There’s something real about you. An honesty you don’t see a lot these days. And there’s kindness. You might try to hide it beneath those thorns you love so much, but I’ve seen it. And, somehow, it’s more potent since you’re not using it for show. You’d rather have no one see you extending a hand to someone else. That’s why.”
“You’re worthy, Shepard Colson. You don’t have to fix anything to be that. You don’t have to dig a million trenches or replace feet of corroded piping. You’re worthy just for who you are.”
“Don’t think I don’t want you there, Thorn. I want you wherever I can get you. Why do you think I’ve been coming to the bakery every day for months? I don’t even like sweets.”
“If you think for one second I don’t want every part of you, you’re wrong. You think I don’t want to know what it feels like to sink inside you, to bury myself so deep I forget my own name? You’re wrong.”
“Lolli,” Trace growled as he strode into the living room. “It’s an opiate.” She just smirked at her grandson. “Not selling it, Mr. Po-Po. You can’t lock me up.”