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Kindle Notes & Highlights
"You don’t know how much love you have to give until you meet the person you’re meant to give all of your love to,"
It might not have been physical, but it doesn’t make her pain any less valid.
But I wait and wait for a text message that never comes.
Harley: I’ll be there to catch you. I pause. To really consider what he’s asking me to do. I never could jump off the rock cliff into the creek. It’s always been my biggest fear. Could Harley Wingrove really be the one to help me face it and…take the leap? Me: Promise? Harley: Promise.
Fuck being, just friends. Sorry, Bea.
I don’t answer right away, because I don’t know how. Who’s the person that gets to decide how much time is enough time to move on? How long is long enough for you to let yourself stop wallowing in self-pity and allow yourself to actually be happy? How long is long enough for you to open your heart back up, knowing full well it could get crushed again all the same?
"Just don’t let yourself miss out on something good because society tells you that you need to wait to move on. There is no right or wrong time, Cassandra.
"Uh, I was just wanting to see if you wanted to, um, join me in the shower? To save water."
"When we shower together, we’re both going to be completely sober. It’s going to be after I’ve fucked you, then tasted you, then fucked you again. But tonight is not that night. Goodnight, Herring," he says, before kissing me on the cheek and heading to his bedroom.
"Thank God." I don’t mean to say it out loud, but I do before I can stop myself. Harley’s face flashes with an unmissable look of confusion and hurt, while Bea’s eyes widen as they wander between us. "Trust me, Cassandra," he says as he clears his throat. "If we had sex, you would remember it." He called me by my first name. He’s pissed. I can hear it in his voice and see it in the way he stalks toward the sink to pour out his cup. But I don’t reply. I don’t trust myself to say something that I won’t regret, even though I know it’s already too late for that.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, as his emerald eyes twinkle, full of hunger. "Like what?" He smirks, hovering his body over mine. "Like you haven’t eaten in days, and I’m the only thing on the menu." I raise a brow as he licks his lips, his clenched jaw softening. "Because, Herring, I’ve been fucking starving for fourteen years."
I never liked to kiss women for long because I never wanted them to get the wrong idea, but fuck, I never wanted to stop kissing her.
DID YOU JUST DEREK SHEPHERD THIS SHIT?
