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Intercepted Quotes
Intercepted
by
Alexa Martin15,669 ratings, 3.71 average rating, 2,447 reviews
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Intercepted Quotes
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“The problem with being an adult is absolutely everything.”
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“Lies by omission are still lies.”
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“She's not mine, you sick fuck. She's not some piece of fucking property you only respect because she belongs to another man. You respect her because she's a fucking woman who deserves to take a train home without being harassed by assholes like you.”
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“#WillRiskLifeForBooze&Carbs”
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“Not to trust everybody. You might be doing right by them, but some people aren't strong enough to do right by you. And that's as much your fault as theirs.”
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“That's how fucked up my relationship experience is. I'm awed by a grown man cleaning up after himself.”
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“I follow him up a familiar staircase, but this time, instead of turning to the right where I slept last time, I follow him to the left and into his room. He walks to his dresser and pulls out a T-shirt and boxers.
“Shit!” he says when he sees me. “I didn’t know you were there. Here are some things for you to sleep in and if you wait a second, I’ll grab some towels. Or if you want, I can bring them to your room.”
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” I throw it out there. Quick, like ripping off a bandage. “I’ll understand if you say no, I just . . . never mind. Sorry. I’ll be in the other room.” I want to turn and run, but my entire body aches and instead of being the hare, I’m for sure the tortoise.
“Where are you going?” Gavin’s hand on my shoulder causes me to stop. “Of course you can sleep with me.”
Tortoise wins again, slow and steady.
“Are you sure? I’ve already invaded your house, now I’m taking over your bed. And my nose is stuffy from crying so I’ll probably snore.”
Stop while you’re ahead, Marlee.
#TMI”
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“Shit!” he says when he sees me. “I didn’t know you were there. Here are some things for you to sleep in and if you wait a second, I’ll grab some towels. Or if you want, I can bring them to your room.”
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” I throw it out there. Quick, like ripping off a bandage. “I’ll understand if you say no, I just . . . never mind. Sorry. I’ll be in the other room.” I want to turn and run, but my entire body aches and instead of being the hare, I’m for sure the tortoise.
“Where are you going?” Gavin’s hand on my shoulder causes me to stop. “Of course you can sleep with me.”
Tortoise wins again, slow and steady.
“Are you sure? I’ve already invaded your house, now I’m taking over your bed. And my nose is stuffy from crying so I’ll probably snore.”
Stop while you’re ahead, Marlee.
#TMI”
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“For the first three years, it’s fun being a pro football player’s girlfriend.
“Marlee, let me see your hand! Did Chris propose yet?” Amber asks.
I’m in year ten.
“Still naked.” I wiggle my fingers in front of her the same way I did last week and the week before that . . . and the week before that. #HeDidntPutARingOnIt
Sometimes, I like to hashtag my life. #CheaperThanTherapy
I sip my margarita. “When it happens, I promise to let you know.” Or, you know, keep asking every time you see me.
“Marlee.” Courtney sighs. She stands at the head of the table clutching a glitter-coated gavel. “We made exceptions for you to join the Lady Mustangs. Try to acknowledge that and save your little side conversation until we’ve finished.”
“Sorry, Court.” Every time I call her Court, she strains her Botoxed forehead and glares in my direction, so obviously, it’s the only thing I call her. Well, sometimes I call her bitch, but she doesn’t know about that.
“As I was saying, the annual Lady Mustangs Fashion Show is in three weeks. Everyone must attend the next meeting so we can discuss the outfits for you and your husbands.”
I catch her eye again. She raises her chin, and her fat-injected lips form an actual smile.
“Oh, I’m sorry. In your case, Marlee, you and your boyfriend.”
See? What a bitch.
“Thanks for the clarification, Court, but I understood.”
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“Marlee, let me see your hand! Did Chris propose yet?” Amber asks.
I’m in year ten.
“Still naked.” I wiggle my fingers in front of her the same way I did last week and the week before that . . . and the week before that. #HeDidntPutARingOnIt
Sometimes, I like to hashtag my life. #CheaperThanTherapy
I sip my margarita. “When it happens, I promise to let you know.” Or, you know, keep asking every time you see me.
“Marlee.” Courtney sighs. She stands at the head of the table clutching a glitter-coated gavel. “We made exceptions for you to join the Lady Mustangs. Try to acknowledge that and save your little side conversation until we’ve finished.”
“Sorry, Court.” Every time I call her Court, she strains her Botoxed forehead and glares in my direction, so obviously, it’s the only thing I call her. Well, sometimes I call her bitch, but she doesn’t know about that.
“As I was saying, the annual Lady Mustangs Fashion Show is in three weeks. Everyone must attend the next meeting so we can discuss the outfits for you and your husbands.”
I catch her eye again. She raises her chin, and her fat-injected lips form an actual smile.
“Oh, I’m sorry. In your case, Marlee, you and your boyfriend.”
See? What a bitch.
“Thanks for the clarification, Court, but I understood.”
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“The problem with being an adult is absolutely everything.”
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“The problem with being an adult is absolutely everything. Bills. Work. The bone-crushing disappointment that comes from knowing the guy you want isn’t right for you. A slowed metabolism.”
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“Naomi has a flare for the dramatic and why discuss things over the phone when you can call an emergency meeting?
And in Naomi’s terms . . . and mine . . . an emergency meeting can constitute a sleepover at my house, filled with all sorts of Girl Scout activities like working on our bedazzling, margarita, and gossip badges.”
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And in Naomi’s terms . . . and mine . . . an emergency meeting can constitute a sleepover at my house, filled with all sorts of Girl Scout activities like working on our bedazzling, margarita, and gossip badges.”
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“WHY THE FUCK do you like this icebox, Mars?” Donny mutters from beneath his down jacket, two scarves, and a hat he’s pulled so low, it might as well be a face mask.
“Donny. You live in New York. Geography wasn’t my strongest subject, but I’m pretty sure they don’t have the warmest of winters.”
“It’s different. The cold isn’t so cold.”
“You’re right. It’s worse because Manhattan is on the water, so it’s straight-to-your-bones cold. Colorado is a dry cold.”
“Oh my god.” Naomi cuts in between us. “Will you two stop it already? Cold is cold is cold.”
“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Donny is nothing if not a man of beautiful, poignant words.”
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“Donny. You live in New York. Geography wasn’t my strongest subject, but I’m pretty sure they don’t have the warmest of winters.”
“It’s different. The cold isn’t so cold.”
“You’re right. It’s worse because Manhattan is on the water, so it’s straight-to-your-bones cold. Colorado is a dry cold.”
“Oh my god.” Naomi cuts in between us. “Will you two stop it already? Cold is cold is cold.”
“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Donny is nothing if not a man of beautiful, poignant words.”
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“When I turn away from the stove and face him, he’s in the same spot, watching me with what I think is either curiosity, mistrust, or kindness.
Yes, I’m aware those are all different, but I’ve never been very good at reading people.”
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Yes, I’m aware those are all different, but I’ve never been very good at reading people.”
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“Where’s Mom?”
“She went to the store to get some of that healthy crap you like to eat.” His lip curls up in disgust.
“It’s not like I’m juicing kale all day, but margarine isn’t real food.”
“You say tomato, I say ketchup.”
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“She went to the store to get some of that healthy crap you like to eat.” His lip curls up in disgust.
“It’s not like I’m juicing kale all day, but margarine isn’t real food.”
“You say tomato, I say ketchup.”
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“So are you riding with me?” he asks, like Courtney never happened.
“Dear god. I need wine.” I ignore his question. I clearly do not share his ability to ignore everything going on around us.
“Is that a yes?” he asks.
I nod, watching the smile cross his face before he reaches for my hand and guides me to the bar.
“White or red?” he asks me when the bartender approaches us.
“With alcohol.” Because after the way this night has played out, I have no right to be picky.
“Can she have a bottle of your most popular wine, please?” Gavin asks the bartender, who happily agrees. Both men are looking at me with huge grins on their faces, and the bartender is laughing! Apparently he was one of the unlucky few who didn’t see what just happened. If he had, he’d be looking much more sympathetic and handing me a bottle of Patron.
He’s walking away when I remember one very important detail and yell after him, “Make sure it’s a twist lid!”
“A twist lid bottle of wine? Really?” Gavin says beside me.
“Yes, really. Do you have a corkscrew in your truck?”
He’s full on laughing at me when Mr. Bartender comes back with a bottle in his hand, its metal lid gleaming under the lights.
“It’s not our most popular, but it’s the only one I could find that didn’t have a cork.”
“Do I seem like my standards are sky-high right now? This is perfect.”
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“Dear god. I need wine.” I ignore his question. I clearly do not share his ability to ignore everything going on around us.
“Is that a yes?” he asks.
I nod, watching the smile cross his face before he reaches for my hand and guides me to the bar.
“White or red?” he asks me when the bartender approaches us.
“With alcohol.” Because after the way this night has played out, I have no right to be picky.
“Can she have a bottle of your most popular wine, please?” Gavin asks the bartender, who happily agrees. Both men are looking at me with huge grins on their faces, and the bartender is laughing! Apparently he was one of the unlucky few who didn’t see what just happened. If he had, he’d be looking much more sympathetic and handing me a bottle of Patron.
He’s walking away when I remember one very important detail and yell after him, “Make sure it’s a twist lid!”
“A twist lid bottle of wine? Really?” Gavin says beside me.
“Yes, really. Do you have a corkscrew in your truck?”
He’s full on laughing at me when Mr. Bartender comes back with a bottle in his hand, its metal lid gleaming under the lights.
“It’s not our most popular, but it’s the only one I could find that didn’t have a cork.”
“Do I seem like my standards are sky-high right now? This is perfect.”
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“You’re really nice,” I slur. We’re waiting for the valet to bring Gavin’s truck around, and it feels like the fresh Colorado air has increased my alcohol level from drunk to trashed . . . and I still haven’t cracked open my wine.
“You’re pretty nice too.” He’s watching me closely, and I’m trying to watch him closely. His eyes are crinkled with amusement; mine are struggling to focus.
“I really wish you were an investment banker.”
Oh no. The loose lips part of the night has arrived.
“Besides my mom, you’re probably the only person in the world who does.”
“Because everyone else would miss their superstar quarterback in his super-hot pants throwing the ball every Sunday?” Sober me hates drunk me so hard right now.
“Because I’m terrible with numbers. I had three different tutors trying to get me to pass my math courses in college. And I’m not sure most of the fans focus on my pants, but I’m glad you do.” His body is shaking with laughter as he nudges me with his shoulder.”
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“You’re pretty nice too.” He’s watching me closely, and I’m trying to watch him closely. His eyes are crinkled with amusement; mine are struggling to focus.
“I really wish you were an investment banker.”
Oh no. The loose lips part of the night has arrived.
“Besides my mom, you’re probably the only person in the world who does.”
“Because everyone else would miss their superstar quarterback in his super-hot pants throwing the ball every Sunday?” Sober me hates drunk me so hard right now.
“Because I’m terrible with numbers. I had three different tutors trying to get me to pass my math courses in college. And I’m not sure most of the fans focus on my pants, but I’m glad you do.” His body is shaking with laughter as he nudges me with his shoulder.”
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“In the words of the infamous Ice Cube, today was a good day. #GangstaRapInspiration
...
You know when people say don’t count your chickens before they hatch?
I hate the saying. I’m terrified of birds and their evil, beady eyes and razor-sharp beaks waiting to peck me to death. But that’s not the point. The point is someone should’ve repeated this to me before I skipped down the street, whistling rap songs.”
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...
You know when people say don’t count your chickens before they hatch?
I hate the saying. I’m terrified of birds and their evil, beady eyes and razor-sharp beaks waiting to peck me to death. But that’s not the point. The point is someone should’ve repeated this to me before I skipped down the street, whistling rap songs.”
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“IN YOUR FUCKIN’ face, Pope!” I yell at his back as he walks to the kitchen to grab another pop. “Who doesn’t know that Italy is the second most used setting in Shakespeare? And you call yourself a competitor.”
What? I never claimed to be a gracious winner. #NaNanaNaNa #BamWHAT”
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What? I never claimed to be a gracious winner. #NaNanaNaNa #BamWHAT”
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“I wasn’t planning on eating with them. For one, carbs are my frenemy. Second, this is supposed to be a players’ bonding dinner and sitting at a table with six football players, listening to them discuss strategy and film, isn’t my idea of a good time. Especially when, out of the six, two are feuding quarterbacks, four are competing wide receivers, two have been in my panties, and only one remembers it. Math has never been my strong point and even I can figure out this word problem.
But hey, how could that possibly go wrong?”
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But hey, how could that possibly go wrong?”
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“Chris is a dick. Everyone on the team knows—hell, everyone on other teams know. You didn’t want to waste your life away with a guy like him. When TK said he’d marry you? You laughed, but you were the only one because every other person at the table knew he was serious.”
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“None of the guys can figure out how a fuckoff like Alexander got you, and we ask him about it often. So, yeah, sucks you found out the way you did. But it doesn't suck, you finding out”
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“None of the guys can figure out how a fuckoff like Alexander got you, and we ask him about it often. So, yeah, sucks you found out the way you did. But it doesn't suck, you finding out.”
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“Oh that’s right. I forgot you’re seeing him now,” she says. “Don’t you just move on faster than a pig in heat?”
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“The way he watches me, the way he touches me? He makes me feel beautiful in a way Chris never did. That I’m beautiful not in spite of the flaws I work so hard to hide, but because of them.”
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“The moral of the story,” he says, “is not to trust everybody. You might be doin’ right by them, but some people ain’t strong enough to do right by you. And that’s as much yo fault as theirs.”
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“I’ve always loved how when I hug him, my head rests right above his heart.”
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