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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Meghan Quinn
Read between
February 11 - February 11, 2025
Gunner: Did you pick out your first day cardigan? Romeo: What color is it? Arlo: That’s not a thing. Gunner: Turner . . .
This was so hilarious 😂
Arlo: Fine. It’s green. Now fuck off.
“This coming from the man who’s harboring feelings for the newest addition to the faculty.”
“We want to know how pissed he is, how annoyed, if he’s onto us. Every little detail you can muster up in those pea-sized brains of yours. And in exchange, we’ll play in your teacher league.”
“They drive a hard bargain.” “Positively evil, if you ask me.” Romeo smirks. “But nothing would give me more pleasure than to watch Arlo squirm.”
“Dead animal, huh? Did you kill it with your boring teaching techniques?” I tsk and shake my head. “Death by English teacher, it’s a real threat in your classroom. Saw some support groups for your students being posted out on the bulletin boards. Might have been an animal today, tomorrow . . . who knows who’s next?”
“Do you need to cry?” “I need something to punch. Mind lending your head?” I ask, twisting to make eye contact with him.
Greer: Which reminds me, word on the street is you have something for Stella. That true? Romeo: Word on the street is you have a thing for Arlo. That true? Greer: Well . . . guess I’ll be on my way. Romeo: Smart.
This makes me laugh everytime I read it 🤣
“I dare you to hug me right now.”
“Uh, is anyone else fearing for their lives?” Romeo asks. “You know, my balls aren’t feeling safe right now and I’m not the one she’s mad at.” “Is it weird that I’m oddly turned on by this entire interaction?” Coraline asks. “Yeah, because it’s your brother,” Romeo says. “But, hell, I think I might be turned on too.”
“Those dresses you wear are my undoing. The skirts, well, they’re a bonus. I envision peeling them off you over my desk after class. Your eyes—they’re unlike any color I’ve ever seen, caramel-colored with a hint of green on the outer ring. Enticing, curious. They bother me but intrigue me at the same time, making it hard not to give you the privilege of being looked in the eyes. And your perfume . . . it’s dizzying, mystifying, causes me to lose my frame of mind and puts me in a headspace of lust. Demanding lust.”
“But . . . I didn’t invite you over.” “Yes, and I didn’t invite you to run my faculty meeting either, but I guess that didn’t stop you.” He reaches the doorway and nods at me. “Move it, Gibson. I’ve been known to get hangry.” Well, at least he’s honest.
“Why do you have a filthy romance on your bookshelf?” “I’m an English teacher. I need to understand all forms of literature.”
Of course you do 😜
Dressed in a tuxedo, hair slicked back, looking so damn sexy I might hike up my skirt right here and now is Arlo Turner.
He shrugs. “Wasn’t too hard to put on a tux.” I cover my mouth with my hand. This man. This unruly, surly, arrogant ass dropped his guard for today and put on a tux. The sentiment is too much for me to handle. It’s a sweet gesture, a kind one . . . a detrimental one.
He’s making me think sweet things about him. He’s causing me to . . . oh dear lord . . . he’s causing me to swoon.
“I wouldn’t dare ask you to expose your true, nerdy self ever again.”
“You make a great Elizabeth Bennet. Your prideful personality is a rare match.”
Look out, Leonardo, there’s a new Jay Gatsby in town, and he’s stealing hearts with every devastating glare.
Then again, I don’t think I’d expect anything less from Arlo Turner. He’s not the one to half-ass something. If he goes in, he goes all in.
“How come I don’t believe her?” “Because she looks more satisfied than both of us combined,” Gunner says. “Do I?” I smooth a hand over my hair. “Must be all that chocolate I’ve been eating. Just as good as an orgasm.”
“I’d like something intimate. A relationship where I not only feel special, but where I make someone feel wanted, needed, cared for. I want to be able to go on dates, hold hands, take long walks at night under the stars. I want passion and spontaneity, but I also want reassurance that there will always be comfort and routine within a relationship. I want something sweet. Something naughty. Something that rocks my world and changes the colors around me. I want . . . love.”
Well, guess what, buddy? You had your chance. I’m worth more than a short-term, directionless fling.
Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you. Just means he doesn’t know how to want you.”
Hell, I’ll grade other teachers’ papers. Anything to avoid hearing the sordid details of Greer’s date.
stands tall. “I miss the feel of a man’s hand holding mine.” She steps in closer. “I miss the feel of someone calling me just to hear my voice.” One more step. “I miss the feel of a man holding me while I drift off to sleep. Anyone can make me come, Arlo, but it’s the one who makes me feel special that I miss.”
“And I might need help, because I’m not good at this shit. But I want to try. Shit, I’m desperate to try, because I can’t stop thinking about you, Greer. And I want to get to know more of you.” He smooths his thumb over my temple. “I want to know more about what’s up here.”
There are people on this earth who don’t need the touch of another human to be happy. They’re pleased with minimal contact and living their own life. And then there are people who need that extra touch. Who crave it. Who—as the therapist says—love love. And if we find ourselves matching up with that person, we need to put in a valiant effort to meet their needs. I’m not saying you need human touch to survive, but I do believe you’re someone who needs altruistic attention. Because you’re considerate and compassionate. And I’m prepared to give it. But it might take me some time to get used to
...more
“You should have known I was high-maintenance from my cardigan collection.”
“Don’t worry, she’s already got me wrapped around her pinky,”
“You realize you’re going to have to get them all something sparkly.” “I know.”
“I want to be a part of girl talk,”
“Well, then grow a vagina,”
“You have bewitched me, body and soul,”
“And I . . . I love you. I never wish to be apart from you . . . from this day on.”
“God, you’re infatuated, aren’t you?” Cora asks.
“The proper term would be bewitched, Coraline. Utterly bewitched.”
