More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Do you think I’m packed?” Ash says, coming back to the conversation. “Or do you think my suitcase is lying in the bottom of my closet, filled with vintage copies of Nancy Drew and dried-up sea monkeys?”
She’s an acquired taste, like fernet or oysters.
He dips his chin, his heart hammering in his ears as he looks at the photo. Invisible claws dig their way into his lungs. They’re both smiling. That’s when he knows he’s in fucking trouble.
doesn’t. Life is a short series of commas, and if you’re lucky, an exclamation point, and then you die.
He cups her face, running that big thumb over her lower lip in a tender way that leaves her breathless. “I carried you on a beach, saved you from a mountain, stabbed you in the thigh with a needle. You think I’m leaving now?”
It breaks her little black heart that they spent their last minutes together arguing when they could have spent them making love or planning their future or threatening bodily harm upon one another.
Love isn’t about fixing yourself so that someone loves you. It’s about finding the right person to love you as you are.
