Lost and Found Sisters (Wildstone, #1)

by Jill Shalvis

“Don’t ever ask someone that,” he said. “Your reactions, your emotions, they’re all your own. You don’t need permission to have them.”

I want to be cuddled. But I also want to be left the hell alone. Being crazy is hard.

I’m just a girl, standing in front of a salad, asking it to be a doughnut.

There should be a weather app for people with social anxiety, like “Today life will be partly crowdy with a 70 percent chance of having to deal with people.”

“There’s a big difference between want and need,” she muttered to herself, picking her pad and pen back up. “I mean, I want a bikini body, but I need chicken nuggets.”

I’m never sure if I actually have free time or if I’m just forgetting everything I’m supposed to be doing.