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To the person I was and the one I became. It’s never too late if you want it enough.
These men are the Khakis—white hetero men of mediocre competence and undeserved confidence who wouldn’t know their way to a clitoris if someone strung them over a swamp rife with testicle-eating crocodiles.
Fine. Rafe Gallagher is a fucking eleven out of ten. The catch—and isn’t there always one?—is Rafe’s personality.
There’s doing the right thing, and there’s doing the right thing for the wrong reasons.
I was just getting to the part where the main character was about to give a revenge blowjob to the hot fae prince who kidnapped her, but there’s no way I’m telling Rafe that.
LMAO
“Okay, he’ll take another room then,” I say, pointing to Rafe with a bit more flourish than necessary.
Oh jeez
“A broom closet. A sofa in the lobby. A towel on the beach. Anything,” I beg as Rafe gives me increasingly incredulous looks I choose to ignore.
Girl you’re being a bitch
“I do hate you, Tris. I hate you very much.”
🥵🥵🥵
“Who did you buy these for, Rafe?” I take the package, stroking the stiff golden ribbon between my fingers. “I guess…” He stops, grimacing at the box like it’s a grenade. “I guess I bought them for Hannah.”
Liar
I should eat them because they’ll go stale long before he gets them back to Chicago, and why is it so adorable that he doesn’t know that? Macarons are my favorite, and I really, really want to eat them, but there’s a symbolism in eating a present he meant for his currently-ex-but-maybe-soon-to-be-current girlfriend.
He did not buy them for Hannah 😩🤚🏼
“I want someone who makes me feel a little like I’m… burning in the best kind of way.”
What I meant was it’s hard to believe you’re an introvert because you shine in every room you enter.”
“There’s nothing unmissable about you. That’s all I meant. That there isn’t anywhere you could go where everyone wouldn’t notice you.”
My obsession that’s not an obsession has never been more obsessive.
“Rafe, why did you draw me?” I whisper. The silence drags on so long that I don’t think he’ll answer, but then he says, “Because I draw things that are beautiful to me.”
“You’re stuck with me now, Trishara.” There’s an implication in that statement, his words settling between us like a triangle squeezing itself into a circle.
I might make fun of his ego, but the truth is that I’m drawn to his self-assurance. I admire the way he can charm a room.
“Your ass is so fucking hot in that skirt, I want to fall to my knees and worship it.”
I should be furious at Rafe and his caveman antics, but my inner feminist is taking a nap. She understands that sometimes you need to counter one point of male nonsense with another.
Fair fair
“I should have known the mutt wouldn’t be far,” Andy drawls as he stands.
Gross man
I’m not sure who moves first. A beat of silence drops before Rafe’s mouth crashes into mine. We kiss. We kiss like it’s our last moment on earth. Like at any second, this will be taken away.
FINALLY
Plus, I’m so tired of trying to win over a corporation that refuses to be won.
MOOD
“You look beautiful tonight,” he ventures, and I consider making a joke about how I know that, but I’ve done that before, and it always seems to catch men off guard. What I’m supposed to do is pretend I don’t think I’m beautiful and act like he’s the one handing this knowledge to me.
Nah you should’ve done it
He needs to understand how amazing this is and that everyone who’s made him feel bad about it is wrong. Their judgment says way more about them than it does about him.
🥹🥹🥹
“I’ll follow you anywhere, Tris.”
MY SHAYLAAA
