Caleb Armani

“Maybe you really are a poet," I whisper.
He smiles softly. "Only a fool for you."
"Pretend?"
My voice is small, soft like the breeze blowing through my short hair.
"Never."
"None of it?" I ask quietly.
"Darling"-he smiles- "I have never had to pretend to want you.”
― Lauren Roberts, Reckless

“She is the torture I may not survive.
Eagerly, she is my undoing.
Her gaze lifts, meeting eyes that are not my own.
Eyes of the man who gets to have her-if she allows it.
She was supposed to be my forever.
Now I'll watch her become someone else's.
Because the beast doesn't get the beauty.”
― Lauren Roberts, Reckless

“Call us even. Call me crazy. I don’t care. Just…” His eyes are pleading, brimming with emotion. “Just call me yours.”
― Lauren Roberts, Reckless

“You don't regret it?"
She shakes her head, her smile sad, "No."
"Good," I murmur. "Because I've always had a thing for short hair."
"Oh, really?" She laughs as I sway us in a circle.
"It's true. Among other things, of course." I shrug a shoulder. "Short hair. Ocean-blue eyes. Twenty-eight freckles. And"- I pause, examining her with a tilt of my head-"how tall are you?"
She blinks in confusion. "Umm, about five and a half feet?"
"Five and a half feet," I continue evenly. "The terrifying ability to kick a man's ass. Stunning smile. Ridiculously stubborn. Hair like molten silver. Quick to threaten me with a dagger." I smile down at her. "Should I go on?”
― Lauren Roberts, Reckless