I love you. I love you. I love you. Always have, probably always will. Happy? she said.He stopped when he was standing mere inches away. Reaching out, he captured her face in his hands and smoothed his thumbs across her cheekbones to clear her tears.You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that, he said.
The second he slipped inside of me, all I'd doubted, questioned, or feared evaporated, leaving me with one single, definite truth--I'd fallen in love with him in an all-consuming blaze that would blind me if I wasn't careful. We fit together like poorly cut puzzle pieces, but when the edges joined and were positioned just right, our scattered images came together to create a solid, deliberate piece of art, completely crystal clear and in focus. I was a goner.
Late twenties, single, female. Do the math.Flirty flings were fabulous until you hit the big three-O, all downhillfrom there. Biological clocks started ticking like time bombs waiting todetonate, gravity exerted more force on your life than your mom, andsuddenly, the dog-ugliest creep looked like Jake Gyllenhaal.
No, it's okay. It was just weird. No one has ever called me hot before.Really? Trace frowned. Well, that changes right now. He ceased walking, stopping in the dead center of the pathway and reached for my hands. Jade Cannon, you are totally hot! Trace announced loudly, and people nearby stopped to stare at us after his outburst. I couldn't help but laugh.