Stefanie

“Got it all scheduled,” he noted.
“Yes,” I returned.
“What’s a huge-ass wedding?”
“Don’t ask that,” I advised. “Just show up.”
His grin turned wicked and I liked it. That was, I liked it until he enquired, “You askin’ me to marry you, Red?”
I wasn’t even sipping coffee and, still, I chocked. Then I pushed out, “What?”
“I accept.”
I shook my head and kept shaking it when I requested clarification, “Let me get this straight. Did you just accept my non-marriage offer?”
“Non-marriage?”
“I didn’t ask!” My voice was rising.
“So you just wanna shack up?” he asked but didn’t wait on my answer. “I’m good with that too.”
Gah!
“I’m getting my huge-ass wedding,” I declared.
“So you are askin’ me to marry you,” he noted.
Gah! Gah! Gah!!
Sharp as a tack.
Someone kill me.”
― Kristen Ashley, Motorcycle Man

“You either fainted or you wanted a much closer look at the cracks in the tile. Either way, you hit hard."

"Seriously?"

He nodded. "Maybe you shouldn't have been trying to make out with him," he suggested.

How did he know that? "I was kissing him good-bye."

He snorted and exchanged glances with the nurse. "That's not what it looked like to me."

Probably not. But what happened? Could Reyes Farrow take control over me even from a freaking coma? I was doomed.”
― Darynda Jones, First Grave on the Right