Mollie Simpson

“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

“Touch her again,” he snarls, voice low, “and I’ll slit your throat. She’s mine.”
― 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

“I may be a monster, but if you cut me, I'll bleed. And if you break my heart, Pae, you'll break me. So, if even a sliver of your soul longs for mine, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to deserve it.”
― Lauren Roberts, Reckless