Ninja At First Sight (Knitting in the City, #4.75)

by Penny Reid

“George!” She smacked him on the shoulder, her forehead a maze of consternation wrinkles. “How can you joke about this? Fiona could be raped, murdered, or worse!” I frowned at my mother, tempted to ask what she had in mind that was worse than rape or murder.

“Not everyone is capable of fighting the great fights. Not everyone is brave and strong and powerful. Let people have their causes. Allow them their victories, when victories can be had, without begrudging the wrongs that they right. Attending to injustice, no matter how small, is always a worthy cause.”

He was awful. He was irreverent and offensive and abrasive, and, for some strange reason which should have alarmed me, I found him completely enchanting.

Obsessing about mistakes was counterproductive to success. I always learned from my mistakes. Then I moved on.

“I wanted you to go out on a date with Creepy Mark because I was certain it would be a disappointment. But when you left, it didn’t matter if you had a good time or not. It was a date, a romantic situation if you will. Certainly you’ll have study groups and class projects in the future. But I want to be your only source of romantic situations from this point forward.”

Girls aren't beautiful, they're pretty. Beautiful is too heavy a word to assign to a girl. Women are beautiful because their faces show that they know they have lost something... and gained something else.’”

“Pribbling base-court varlots? What does that even mean?” “It’s a Shakespearean insult. Roughly translated, it means selfish twats.”

“I don’t know what a xenophobic hermit requires in the morning, so I made coffee.” His voice was hushed. “Coffee works,” I whispered and took a sip of the black liquid, found it magnificently strong, “as long as it was made with the tears of women and children.” Greg flashed me a grin that made my stomach do backflips. “Is there any other way to make coffee?”

“Point your toes, and imagine that you’re a pole, perfectly straight.” I was impressed I was able to keep my touch disinterested, though I longed to trace and explore his skin. “I’m a pole, I’m a pole,” he chanted. “I’m a pole… I wish someone would dance on me.”

Because a relationship is made up of many burdens, and the two people within the relationship have different strengths and weaknesses, abilities and talents.”

Burdens are weightless, worlds change, and love endures when both people are contributing their maximum.”

I think—unless you have some compelling reason to keep bank accounts separate—the separation of finances just in case dooms a relationship to failure. It’s like each person already has one foot out the door, like those people who get married and think to themselves, Oh, well if this doesn’t work out, I can always get a divorce.”

“Because if it’s possible to have a partner who gives all of themselves without reservation, who looks forward to working and sacrificing for me just as I look forward to doing the same for her, who can’t help but love ferociously, brutally, and unconditionally—and even perhaps without reason or sound judgment—that’s what I want. Because that’s how I plan to love in return.”