The Reality of Everything (Flight & Glory, #5)

by Rebecca Yarros

“I’ve always been an asshole. Selfish, careless, impetuous, you name it. But for her, I’ll be anything she needs. I’ll rip the world apart to keep her safe, and I’ll make damn sure I don’t give her anything to be embarrassed about when it comes to me.”

Every label I could put on what I had with Will felt too small, too pale in comparison to what we’d been, and what we could have evolved into, and yet too big for our lack of definition. “Everything, and yet nothing.” I gave him the truth in the simplest terms I could, giving him the best perspective of me he could have and hiding nothing.

“Maybe it is futile. Maybe one day we’ll be forced to abandon it. But it’s okay to fight for something you love, to dig it out and build it back up in hopes that this time the foundation will be strong enough to withstand the hurricane. It’s just like what you’re doing with the

“And it’s okay to do all you can and still lose, still get washed away. It sucks, but it’s a far less tragic ending than never having tried.”

Then I fell off. More than once. But I’ll be damned if I didn’t haul myself back up on that board every single time.

“I’ll come read with you,” he offered in what had to be the sexiest voice imaginable. Hell, that was the sexiest line imaginable. “What book are you spending your nights with?”

“The old you, huh?” He took a few steps to my right and reached for the door handle. “Yep. She even came with a quick smile and sharp little tongue when the occasion called for it.” That was a whole other life—a whole other girl—but the girl I was tonight didn’t feel too bad, either. “You still have those things. Trust me. And I happen to like whatever version of you this is just fine. In fact, I have yet to see any version of you I don’t like. They’re all just you.”

“But she’s also too important, too unique, and too beautiful to stand by and do nothing while she drowns. While she might look delicate, she’s actually incredibly strong and capable of taking a storm or two.”

“Because you can’t tell me that I don’t want you.”

want you in a way that keeps me up at night, mentally calculating the steps between my door and yours. I want you so badly that I barely stop myself from taking those steps every single night. I have no problem owning my feelings about you. And while I’m not going to push you for something when you obviously don’t feel the same—” My jaw dropped. “I never said I don’t want you—” “I damn well think you deserve to know that you might preach you’re a mess, but I think you’re pretty fucking perfect, wreckage and all.”

he made me want to live, not just survive and hope for the best.

“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results, and I’m not involving myself with another heartbreak just waiting to happen when I haven’t fixed myself from the last one.”

I want to take you to bed. I would fucking kill to take you to bed. I’ve fantasized about getting my hands on you since the moment we met, but the first time you scream my name, the only thing in your system will be me. I’m not about to be one of your regrets when I have the option to be your choice. Get it? I’m not trading the possibility of an entire future with you for a couple orgasms on a single night—no matter how fucking edible you look right now.”

grief isn’t a measure of how much someone loved you. It’s the measure of how much you loved them.

“I’m going to tell you how I feel until you choose the hell that rips us apart, and even then, I’ll probably still tell you. What I feel for you isn’t quiet. It’s loud and inconvenient and demands to be said as often as possible.”