Im not stealing it. Were stranded. This is called borrowing. This is called youre crazy.
BECCA FITZPATRICK…”good, because i need your help.” “help is my middle name.” i was pretty sure she’d already told me bad was her middle name, but i kept my opinion to myself.
More Becca Fitzpatrick Quotes
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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.
BECCA FITZPATRICK -
You’re crazy. You’re impossible.’ ‘i’m crazy?’ he tipped my chin up and planted a quick, rough kiss on my mouth. ‘and i must be crazy for putting up with it.
BECCA FITZPATRICK -
I’m touched, rixon. A bomb. How elaborate. Why didn’t you keep things simple and just march inside my bedroom one night and put a bullet between my eyes?” nora, crescendo
BECCA FITZPATRICK -
Reading a good book in silence is like eating chocolate for the rest of your life and never getting fat.
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I got a new job. Patch locked eyes with me, and i warmed in a lot of places. In fact, i was dangerously close to feverish.
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He felt warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. I wanted to cling to his shirt, bury my face into the warm curve of his neck, and never let go.
BECCA FITZPATRICK -
You’re a psychopath.” “i prefer creative.
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I couldn’t escape him, now or ever. He’d always be there, consuming my every thought, my heart locked in his hands. I was drawn to him by forces i couldn’t control, let alone escape.
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You picked the seats you did for a reason, right? Familiarity. Too bad the best sleuths avoid familiarity. It dulls the investigative instinct.
BECCA FITZPATRICK -
When i’m wasted, i can almost forget who i am,” he said, his smile fading slightly. “i know i’m still there, but only barely. It’s a good place to be.” he tipped back the thermos, eyes on the dark sea straight ahead
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His muscles flexed under his clothes, holding me, leading me. Never letting me stray far.
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Walk out, he repeated. We need to talk. About how you need to sacrifice me to get a human body? I asked, my tone light, my insides feeling leaden. That might be cute if you thought it was true.
BECCA FITZPATRICK -
I forced a smile. It was the one i’d been practicing all morning. It felt tight at the edges and brittle everywhere in between.
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Hang on, did you just call me angel? I asked. If i did? I dont like it. He grinned. It stays. Angel. He leaned across the table, raised his hand to my face, and brushed his thumb along one corner of my mouth. I pulled away, too late.
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Patch’s eyes were slate black, darker than a million secrets stacked on top of each other. He dropped his gaze to the ring in his hand, turning it over slowly. “swear you’ll never stop loving me,” i whispered. Ever so slightly, he nodded.
BECCA FITZPATRICK