Beneath the Hood (Sugarlake, #3)

by Emily McIntire

To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself. THICH NHAT HANH

Sometimes it’s nice to feel wanted, to be the center of someone else’s everything, even temporarily.

You learn a lot about a person from paying attention to what they don’t say. And Blakely Donahue doesn’t say a lot. I wonder if anyone has ever listened to her silence.

I know what it’s like to be lost in your head—to feel so alone while you’re spinning at its mercy. I know what it’s like to spiral so fast and so deep you fear you’ll never see straight again. I know the pain of hiding your grief, and doing it so well, so convincingly, that no one realizes they should be looking to see if it’s there.

I’ll keep coming back, so she isn’t alone. The lighthouse to her darkness, guiding her through the shallow waters.

The torn muscle in my chest rattles against my ribs, reminding me that some pieces of a heart don’t ever heal. They just exist, broken and bleeding, reminding you to appreciate what you have when you have it. Because you never know when it will disappear.

“I love your eyes,” he continues. “The way they show me all your truths. No one has ever consumed me with a single look, but you...” He blows out a breath. “You fucking wreck me.”

“I love your heart,” he whispers. “I would spend the rest of my life worshiping at your feet, so long as I got to experience every beat.”

“Your worth has nothing to do with how you look, Blake. It has to do with who you are. That’s what makes you beautiful.”