Addicted to You Quotes

“I’m not sure. I mean, he might be confused but, I don’t know, I just think if he loved me, like really loved me, I’d know because when it comes down to it, love’s not really a choice.”
― Renita Pizzitola, Addicted to You

“I love you.”

He planted a kiss on my collarbone. “I love you most.”

“You skipped more.”

“It wasn’t enough.”
― Renita Pizzitola, Addicted to You

“So does this mean…”

“It means I’m planning to live on that damn beach until the day I’m a member of Senior Citizen Cove.”

“Hey now, Coral Cove would welcome you with open arms.”

She laughed, her nose doing that adorable scrunching thing. “Oh man, Colby, we’re gonna be old one day.”

I shrugged. “We’ll do it together and never even notice.”
― Renita Pizzitola, Addicted to You

“Landon reappeared, wearing a shirt, and pointed to the trash bag. “All done with that? I’m taking them to the garage.”

Colby did a quick scan of the kitchen. “Yeah, looks like we got it all.”

“Cool.” He knotted the top together then lifted the bag. Glass bottles rattled inside. “This shit stinks. Our friends are pigs.”

Matt pretended to clear his throat. “Says the beer pong champ.” He lifted his hands, his face masked in innocence. “Didn’t say a thing.”

“Ha-ha, okay, okay. Yeah, so maybe I contributed.” Landon shouldered the weighted bag. “A lot. But I also kicked your ass.”

“We,” I chimed in. “Considering how drunk you were, we should probably respect the solid seventy/thirty split of the win.”

Landon opened the garage door and paused. “Hold that thought.”

“Uh-oh, you got him all fired up now.” Matt laughed and plopped down on the couch in the now clean living room. “You got anything for a headache?”

Colby nodded, reached into the kitchen cabinet where he stored the ibuprofen, then tossed him the bottle.

The garage door reopened and Landon stepped through already talking. “Okay, so if I’m not mistaken, you’re saying you did seventy percent of the winning?”

“Seems about right.” I grinned, just to egg him on.

“What I’m thinking is we should just call it fifty/fifty because my drunkenness just took my superior beer pong skills down to average-guy range.”

“Oh? So that’s what we want to call it? Hmm…Okay, if this helps keep your ego nice and inflated, I guess I can get on board with that.”

“Hey now…” He forced back a smile.

“Kidding. We all know I suck at beer pong. If it hadn’t been for my champion of a partner and Matt’s extreme inebriation, I wouldn’t have stood a chance. It was a team effort and we…how did you say it? Mopped the floors with the blood of our enemies?”

“Damn girl, you’re feisty. This isn’t no red wedding. I just said we kicked some ass.”

“Oh, you didn’t say something like that? Wow, now I see how the inflated ego comes about. That kind of win just really goes straight to the head. I’m like crazy with power.”

“I’d say.” He laughed. “And remind me to never play against you.”
― Renita Pizzitola, Addicted to You

“Port Lucia was a tiny town without much to do as it was. Add in my lack of friends to hang out with, and my relationship with Netflix was becoming questionable. When it asked if I was still watching, I’d gone from Thanks for caring to Quit judging me! I needed to get out of my apartment.”
― Renita Pizzitola, Addicted to You

“I raised the bag in my hand. “I heard you were sick and brought you some of Grandma’s caldo. Oh, and orange juice, per her request.”

“You. Are. The. Best.” Landon stared at the bag, looking like I could pull out a live chicken and he’d still eat it.”
― Renita Pizzitola, Addicted to You

“Oh, I see how it is.” Matt reached both his arms into the air. “Hang on, let me just do a few stretches.” Then he rolled his head from front to back. “Loosen up a bit.”

His little spectacle made me laugh, a genuine These are my friends; why not enjoy myself? kind of laugh, and my body finally relaxed.

“Hey, laugh all you want, but just remember half of my team is completely sober. We have a fifty-percent advantage.” He slung his arm around Taylor.

“Or disadvantage—have you never seen me play beer pong? I kind of suck,” she admitted.

“Shh, babe, this is the mental game. We’re just psyching them out. I know you can’t play for shit.”

I lifted my hair into a ponytail and pulled a hair tie from my wrist. “You do realize we can hear you, right?”

“You do realize I can hear you too?” Taylor added. “I mean, way to boost my confidence right before the big game,” she teased.

“I know, babe, and I’m sorry, but look—it’s working. Isla’s getting ready for a throwdown. She’s pulling her hair up and she’s all ‘Hold my purse.’ ”

“Purse?” Taylor mouthed.

I shrugged and forced back another smile. Game face, right?

Landon chuckled. “Okay, okay, let’s go. Someone needs to get their ass kicked before they just pass out altogether. I’m winning this game by merit, not default.”

As the game started, I found myself letting go. Colby drifted from the forefront of my thoughts. Forgotten were Landon’s supposed feelings for me. And I had fun. I laughed at how incredibly off our aims were. And when one of us succeeded by chance, we’d turn to one another and high-five without even a second thought. We were in sync. We were having fun. And we were winning. The perfect team.

Landon tossed the final ball. It bounced effortlessly into a cup, and I squealed as he covered his mouth with his hand. “Ohh, is that what I think it is?” he mocked the losing team. “Isla, correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe we just kicked some serious ass.”

I stared at the table and nodded, my expression one of mock-seriousness. “Why Landon, I believe you are correct.”

He then busted out some sort of celebratory end zone dance.

Laughing, I nudged him and shook my head. “Okay, okay.” But when he wouldn’t stop, I finally grabbed both his hands. “Oh my god, we won. Now don’t spoil that with whatever this is!”

He flipped his hands so that he was now holding my wrist and tugged me into his arms. Then he pumped one hand into the air and shouted, “Victory!”
― Renita Pizzitola, Addicted to You

“we were both permanent residents of Friendsville, population two”
― Renita Pizzitola, Addicted to You

“Hello, Isla…You there?” Colby waved his hand in front of my face.

I blinked rapidly then leaned back. “Sorry. Spaced out.”

“Yeah, this game’s getting lame. You know me too well.”

And that was a bad thing?

“Let’s play something else.”

“Like?” I asked.

“Strip poker?” he teased, because we both knew he’d never actually play that.

I laughed. “You wanna see me naked, Colby?” And holy shit, if his gaze didn’t drift. And I don’t mean away to check his phone, or to the fridge for another drink, no—it went down. As in, roaming over my body.

His head popped back up and his cheeks pinked just the tiniest bit. And it wasn’t a beer flush either, because I was pretty confident that color hadn’t been there thirty seconds ago.

He laughed it off as he stood and walked to the fridge. “Who wouldn’t?”

“You,” I muttered.

With his head down as he stared into the fridge, he mumbled something. I didn’t quite hear, but could have sworn he said, “That’s what you think.”

Had he said that? Or was my brain inserting the words I wanted to hear? Was it possible we were really having a semipassive-aggressive argument about my nakedness? It was probably all the drinking, but no way would I let this opportunity slip by. “All you need to do is ask.”

He turned, beer in hand, and leaned against the fridge. “Maybe I’m waiting for you to offer.”

“I’m right here.”

“So you are.”
― Renita Pizzitola, Addicted to You