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I felt his eyes devour me as i moved around the room. He assessed me head to toe without blinking, and a hot ache shivered through me. A kiss would’ve been less intimate.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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You can call me patch. No really. Call me.
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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.
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Hang on, did you just call me angel?” i asked. “if i did?” “i don’t like it.” he grinned. “it stays, angel.
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Before i could stop myself, i punched his arm. Careful, he said in a low voice. They might think were flirting.
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