“Rollover minutes dont work with curfews.”

I love you more than i think i should.

The guy i’ve got my eye on happens to be hot. Off-the-charts hot. Hotter-than-patch hot.’ she paused. ‘well maybe not that hot. Nobody’s that hot.

I needed him like i’d never needed anyone.

You smell good, too, said patchit’s called a shower. I was staring straight ahead. When he didn’t answer, i turned sideways. Soap. Shampoo. Hot water.Naked. I know the drill.

He tasted deeper, holding himself over me, and suddenly he was everywhere; his knee trapping my leg, his lips grazing warm, rough, sensuous. He splayed his hand at the small of my back, holding me tightly, driving me to sink my fingers deeper into him, clinging to him as if letting go would mean losing part of myself.

The archangel.” i murmured. Looking back over my shoulder at the ride, which had started its next ascent. “it means high-ranking angel.” there was a definite smugness to his voice. “the higher up, the harder the fall.

Let me show you, he said in my ear. Like this. Feel that? Relax. Now pivot your hipsits all in the hips.

Are you defending marcie? He shook his head. I dont need to. She handled herself. You, on the other hand i pointed at the door. Out.

Did i really want to stay on this road longer, knowing it was only going to end in devastation?

The subjects pulse increased on contact, he said. Dont write that.

Vee: and i’m not going to let you sit at home all afternoon with your sour face on. Nora: i don’t have a sour face. Vee: yes, you do. And you’re wearing it right now. Nora: this is my annoyed face. You woke me up at six in the morning!

I could get you to smile like that, and without sales tax.

My legs are falling asleep, i blurted. It wasnt a total lie. I was experiencing tingling sensations all through my body, legs included. I could solve that. Patchs hands closed on my hips.

Any happiness, no matter how brief, seemed better than the long, simmering torture of waking up day after day, knowing i could never have him.

That’s really eco-friendly of you,” vee told marcie. “recycling nora’s old trash.

I wrinkled my nose, trying to figure out what he smelled like. Not cigarettes. Something richer, fouler. Cigars.