More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
If one of the guys got a hangnail, the rest of them would rally around staring balefully at the unfortunate who wielded the cuticle clippers until it was
successfully clipped out.
“Logan! We need a tarantula!” He did not want a fucking tarantula.
“I’m done walking through fire for you, High!” I yelled. “I’m done not because I’m done but because there’s nothing left of me to burn. You have it all! You’ve always had it all! I gave up everything so you could have it all! Please! God! Leave me to my nothing!” I swung an arm out to their table. “And if you gave one single shit about me, ever, make them let me have my nothing!”
“You’re unbelievably happy?” “Baby, are you back?” Oh God.
But to keep warm, he not only was wearing his cut. He was also wearing a black bandana around the bottom half of his face, shades over his eyes, and his unruly, thick, dark, overlong hair was untethered.
As it was, I just gave him a handshake, said hey, memorized his dimples when he gave me a small smile so I could take that memory out later and savor it,
Jesus. No fucking way. “It’s like… like… better than a castle,” Zadie breathed from the backseat. Shit. “It’s amazing!” Cleo cried, also from the backseat. Christ.
He caught a look at her face, the face he fell in love with over two decades ago, a face now shining with excitement. Fuck.
