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I’m not easily distracted, but if I could manifest my perfect distraction, it’d look a lot like her.
When did I say that? I’m a romance reader. I have a thing for assholes.
Because with how perfect she looks tonight, no one is going to believe she’s mine.
“You can’t stop being who you are because someone else thinks it’s too much, Ind. He can go find less.”
when you’re home I don’t feel like I have to put on a show. I have a hard time with new people. I’m sure you know that by now. But with you, I can be myself, and that might seem like nothing to anyone else, but to me, it’s everything.”
I knew I’d like it. I knew it would be good, but what I didn’t expect was to feel light as a feather from my fingers to my toes. To fall completely under a spell just from feeling his mouth, especially when he told me I’d never have it.
“Indy, I’m not blind, but even if I were, I’m pretty sure I could touch your face and understand just how fucking stunning you are, but it’s not the first thing I see anymore.”
I’m beginning to wonder if the love I had for Alex was genuine and true, or simply a convenient avenue to the life I wanted.
“I believe in love, but I’m a realist. You could love someone with your entire being, but it doesn’t guarantee they’ll love you in return. It’s a gamble, and I don’t like to make bets I might lose.”
Tears stream down my face from the overwhelming knowledge that I’ve gone twenty-seven years without being loved the way Ryan Shay loves me.
She deserves the gesture. She deserves to be loved loudly. She deserves to be loved in any way she wants.
“You know that jersey you’ve got with my last name on it? When you see it hanging there in your closet, let it serve as a reminder to you, that soon enough, it’ll be her last name too.”
How privileged I am to make a career out of something I love so much. How much I missed it, and now I want to savor every second I have of it.
“How else would you get to live a thousand lives in the span of only one? The beauty of fiction is that it makes you feel things on a visceral level. You can cry with those characters, laugh with them. It teaches you to look at another’s perspective, to have empathy. In nonfiction, you simply learn about something instead of feeling it.”
“Promise me you’re not giving up on us.”
“You don’t think I know that? I haven’t seen black and white since the second you walked into my apartment. Now it’s pink-painted toes, purple clothes, green plants, and those goddamn yellow curtains.” He shakes his head. “And so much fucking Blue. All I see is Blue.”
I’ve gained a new appreciation for the quiet since I met Ryan. The silence allows for a moment of introspection. Now, that silence screams with reminders that I’m worthy. That I’m deserving of the love I read about.
