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I’m just waiting for the moment the perfect woman falls into my lap. That’s not too much to ask for, right?
Stupid, stupid tears every woman sheds when the world seems to be against her and the walls are closing in.
At that moment, I make my decision. I’m going to keep her. I’m going to keep this woman. Fuck her matching me up.
Fit me in. Why does the thought of her dating other men, even in a clinical, professional way, make me fucking furious?
It’s the girl. Knowing she exists, knowing I found her, gives me the energy I need to get through this long day.
asking when he can come down again to ‘hang with my girl.’ And God, do I love the sound of that. My girl.
This is so inappropriate! my inner rule-following librarian shrieks. Then why does she like it so much? my sex fiend retorts.
“She’s it.” I feel dumb saying it out loud, but it’s… it’s the truth. Cassandra is what my mom was to my dad.
Quinn is getting frustrated for me, ready to go to war if needed to protect her little brother.
“You don’t need to do anything to keep me interested, sweetheart. You’re all I can think about.”
“You might know red flags, but I know green ones. And this man is a fuckin’ leprechaun.”
My head falls back to the couch with a soft squish, but I wish it were a brick wall.
I just need to express to her a heads up would be nice, so I don’t walk into a restaurant and see my woman out with another man.
Cassie tries to say something that looks like, “Please let go,” but he doesn’t. Instead, he tugs again. It’s not the tug that snaps me. It’s the flash of pain on her face. Abso-fucking-lutely not. No way.
“Fuck off, man. She’s playing hard to get. You know how chicks can be.” I. See. Red.
That man was fucked as soon as he touched you and you said no. There is never an excuse for that shit.” “I had it handled! I—” “No, Cassie. No. You need to know this about me now. I will protect what is mine until my last fuckin’ breath.
But it’s also the reason I knew if I hit a man for touching my girl and ended up in hot water, my dad would back me.
And maybe that’s the reality—there are always red flags. It’s just the shade of red and the size of the flag that matters. But if you put on rose-colored glasses, the shades of red all mesh together.
“From now on, it’s my job to make sure you know how fucking beautiful you are. To make sure you don’t question it, and when you look in the mirror, you only see beauty. When you see spots you used to hate, you remember me kissing them. Make sure you know how fucking gorgeous I think every damn inch of you is.”
I’m not backing down until you have everything you deserve. And after, I’m sticking around to make sure you keep it.”
Everyone is going to wonder how on earth I scored a fuckin’ eleven.”
“Excuse me?” Somehow, in my embarrassment, I missed Luke leaning in to listen, his body tense, the heat roiling off him.
The words catch at the small tear in my heart, one of thousands, catching it like a tiny threaded needle, adding a single stitch to the tear. Not enough to repair it —no, that’s my job. Only I can do the repairs, but a single stitch, a splint to keep it safe while I do the work.
“I can’t, Luke. I can’t do it.” I know what she’s really saying. I can’t risk it. But I’d risk it all for her if she would just fucking let me. And the balance of that kills me.
My arms go around her waist and she holds herself close to her body like she wants me to wrap her up and protect her. I will. Every part of her.
Because the way I feel when I’m with you? The person I am when we’re together? You make me want to love that person.
“Cassie, the fact you have to ask if I’ll take you back is funny. But the fact you thought it was even an option for you is even more hilarious.
“Okay, Luke.”
