More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“You cannot take what isn’t freely given, Zayn Bernard. You fucking disappoint me.”
Love is chaotic, agonizing, complex. It’s like DNA, no one really knows the depths of its power or can unravel its mysteries. Love is just there, it’s something that exists and we’re all just a bunch of people either looking for love, are in love, or are heartbroken without it, because of it.
“Pen, goddamn it, don’t you dare shut down now. Give me something, anything. It’s important.”
My lips smash against his as I grip hold of the lapels of his jacket and yank him close. I kiss him in anger and with love. I kiss him with fierceness and hurt. I kiss him with longing and loathing. This kiss isn’t a white flag of truce. This kiss is meant to distract, to disarm. I can’t give him the answers he seeks, but I can give him something to think about. After a beat, he kisses me back. He presses his body against mine, lifts me up beneath my thighs and traps me against the wall. His stubble scratches against my skin, but I don’t care. We kiss in a way that opens old wounds.
Blood ties, blood binds, blood weeps.
I’d willingly burn up in your flames, and suffocate in your ashes, if it meant I could hold you close again. If it meant you’d let me in.
“You’re insane.” “Only for you,”
“Dancing with you is a gift, Pen. Loving you an inevitability,” he whispers
If it sounds like a trick question, that’s probably because it is.
she thinks all this hate I feel is aimed at her. It isn’t. It’s aimed at me.
My girl. My fighter. My Titch.
There have only ever been two obsessions in my life. I’m dancing one of them and looking at the other.
the only woman who’s ever ruled my heart. Her moves match mine, mirroring me, or at least she tries to, and her tenacity to keep up with my steps does something to me. In dance she’s never afraid to push past her limits, to make mistakes and learn from them. She was always the beating heart of the Breakers, and I’m reminded of that right here, right now. My steps falter, and the anger falls away as I allow myself to feel something other than hate.
Pen’s eyes meet mine and a million emotions are portrayed in them. She has opened up and has allowed me to see right into the complexities of her. She’s the defiant little girl beneath that oak tree, bruised and battered but never beaten. She’s the woman with secrets that weigh her down, but will not end her. She’s the dancer that inspires passion in others. She’s her. She’s Titch. And just like that, I’m a goner. Hook, line, and fucking sinker.
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grinning and to remind myself that pain comes hand in hand with the Breakers just as much as pleasure.
“Are you still that boy I remember?” “Are you still that girl?” he counters, closing his eyes briefly as I cup his face in my palm. “No,” I whisper. “I’m not that boy either,” he admits. “What do we do?” “We start over,
“You were never our weakness. You were always our strength.”
“I want you to stay. Now, tomorrow, forever, Titch.”
“You broke me first,” he accuses,
“We broke each other,
“I’m not ashamed of the fact that I did it to protect them. To protect my brothers. Everything I do is for Zayn, York, and Dax. That is what love is, Pen. Not walking away, not turning your back on people you care about when it gets too hard.” He’s panting now, his body shaking with feeling and I let out a sad laugh. “I know everything about protecting the ones you love,” I say softly, gutted that he thinks so very little of me. His eyes flash with pain, then confusion, and I reach up to cup his cheek, tempering his painful grip with a soft touch of my own. He flinches, but he doesn’t pull
...more
“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” I admit, fucking exhausted from trying to hold it all together. It’s like trying to make a castle out of sand. Every time I think I’ve made something strong enough to withstand the elements, a huge waves comes along and fucking washes it away. “This is so much bigger than I can handle.”
“When that time comes—and believe me it will—you have to tell us everything. No more secrets. No more half-truths. No more lies,” he says.
“I just want to—” comfort you, hold you, be there for you. Fuck, I need to man up. I need to say what I really feel, but it’s hard, so fucking hard. There’s too much distance between us and I’m not good with words.
Right here, right now, she falls apart in my arms, and I've never felt so fucking small in my life. I've done this to her. We've done this to her. We came back into her life and pushed her, treated her like shit, like she meant nothing when all the while she meant every damn thing. No, she means everything.
every inch of him is covered in tattoos, right down to his bare feet; they wind up his legs and creep beneath his shorts. He’s a walking painting, a work of art.
A single tear slides down his cheek, but I don’t see weakness. I see strength. I see the man I’ve loved most of my life letting go of all the shit. He’s showing me the power of forgiveness. He forgives me for hurting him, for leaving him. That one single tear eviscerates his past hurts and bad decisions, just like it eviscerates mine. It's time to heal.
“If I hurt you, tell me. If I go too hard, too fast, tell me. If you want me to stop, tell me. I want this to be good for you,” he says, seriously.
there’s a tremor to his voice that I don’t understand. A crack, like he’s shredding the walls encasing his heart in a way that is dangerous for all of us.
“I would rather die than see you taken from us again.”
“Fuck, Kid. Do you know how much I love you?” “How much?” I whisper, my heart soaring. “It’s a tear-the-sky-down-and-rip-a-man-to-shreds-for-even-looking-at-you amount. A lot, Kid. So fucking much.”
This is the slow trickle of water through a crack in a dam, waiting for the moment to burst. This is the low heat of a flame flickering to life, waiting for the tinder to catch and burst into an inferno. This is a heart slowly cracking open, but not wanting an audience in that moment when it does.
