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380 pages, Paperback
First published March 29, 2016

















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"You're special, Murphy Sullivan. I can make you believe it"
"She's beautiful. If my music had a physical form, I think it might just be her."

4.5 Stars!
❝My mental list of defects is so long that I forget the old ones to make room for the recent ones.❞
❝Any other girl, some other place and time, and I would be switching gears right now, capitalizing, because I always get the girl. I just don't always keep the girl.
But Murphy...she's a keep kind of girl.❞
❝But I'm supposed to be here. And today, I've discovered my purpose.
I will do this so my mother and sisters don't have to.❞
❝Everyone spoils you," Houston says,
... he's right--everyone spoils me. Except for the people who made me.❞
“I’m scared because I like this Casey Coffield. I really like him.”
“We’ve not really done anything but fight through demons and take chances on dreams in one another’s presence, but I think I love her. It’s impossible. It’s entirely possible. My heart is a victim of this stress, and I know that’s the cause. But I also think maybe… maybe it’s not. I at least admit to myself that I love the idea of loving her.”
“I thought her singing was perfection. I thought no other sound could compare, but when she pants for me and cries with pleasure, I come undone.”
“Go on. It’s not much, but… it’s really not much now that I dropped it on the ground,” he grimaces. “And I brought chocolates, but I ate four of them in the car because, well…I thought I might be in there for a while-ax and all.” “Four?” I ask, noticing the completely empty top layer exposed in the small box by his hand. “Maybe six…” he smirks. “Okay, seven. Fine. Eight.”
(He) manages to walk me backward into the small nook at the far end of the bar. "Oh...oh no you don't," I start, my heart beating hard as I put my palm flat on his chest, which is...hot. It's warm, I mean. But it's also hot. And hard. And really big and immovable. My eyebrows narrow, and I push harder as his arms fall to his sides and his thumbs find his pockets. "What are you, like a bouncer on the side? Were you always this... big? I look up realizing what I said and the right side of his mouth ticks up. Jedi dimple. I roll my eyes in response. "Stocky," I say, my lips pursed. "I mean stocky. And...pushy. I definitely mean pushy."
If you were a pilot, I’d let you fly me to the moon
