Falling for Your Best Friend (Love Clichés, #4)

by Emma St. Clair

It’s a stark reminder that Chase deserves someone who does the same for him. Someone who doesn’t need so much, who doesn’t require so much consideration. Someone who is normal, not just pretending to be.

Home isn’t home anymore. It’s like trying to squeeze into a pair of jeans that fit in seventh grade.

Why is it that the family you’re born with sometimes understands you less than the one who chooses you?

Harper is like a novel I’ve read over and over until the pages are worn and dog-eared, the spine completely broken and splitting apart. I know her sounds. I know the tones of her voice. I know when she’s hiding how she feels and when she’s lost control and is letting loose a show of unbridled emotion.

But maybe they’re more like me than I realized. “Sometimes going after what we want isn’t as terrifying as living without,” Tank says.

“No. You’re settling for comfort. Not happiness. They’re not the same.”

She was my inspiration when I had none, my hope when it had gone dark, my strength when I was at my weakest. Everything about me is better for knowing her. But have I ever said this in words? Nope. I just make lentil burgers.

We all just seem to understand Harper’s differences or preferences and leave it at that. That’s what you do for people you love, isn’t it? Whether there is a diagnosis or not.

But I’m like Pluto, who thought he was a planet only to have the title stripped away.

I think most women want to know that a man loves them enough to stand up and fight for them.” “But I’m fighting her. She’s the one closing the door.” Molly chews her lip. “Look. If she really wants it closed, you’ll know. But if there’s hesitation, maybe it’s not you. It’s something else. Maybe she’s afraid or … I don’t know. I do know that if it’s love, it’s worth having your foot broken.”