Alisa

“You know,” Cole said. “My mom once told me a boy would know he’d become a man when he stopped putting himself first. She said a girl would come along and I wouldn’t be able to get her out of my mind. She said this girl would frustrate me, confuse me, and challenge me, but she would also make me do whatever was necessary to be a better man–the man she needed. With you, I want to be better. I want to be what you need. Tell me what you need.”
― Gena Showalter, Through the Zombie Glass

“Are you trying to tell me that you've never been kissed?"
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. He looked so dubious, and his tone had borderd on insulting. "Yeah. So?"
"So, I'm shocked, that's all. You're...you."
In-sul-ting."Me?" I asked stiffly.
"Yeah. Hot," he said.
Wait. Me? HOT?
He laughed down at me."No one's told you that, either, have they?"
I could only shake me head.
"You've clearly been hanging around idiots.”
― Gena Showalter, Alice in Zombieland

“Ali Bell doesn't play hide-and-seek," Lucas said. "She plays hide-and-pray-I-don't-find-you."
Mackenzie smiled. "When Ali Bell gives you the finger, she's telling you how many seconds you have to live."
Cole chuckled, saying, "Fear of spiders is arachnophobia, and fear of tight spaces is claustrophobia, but fear of Ali Bell is just called logic."
"Oh, oh." Kat clapped excitedly. "There used to be a street named after Ali Bell, but it was changed because nobody crosses Ali Bell and lives. True story.”
― Gena Showalter, Through the Zombie Glass

“I felt my hand curl into a fist. Felt my elbow draw back. Felt my arm dart forward, my knuckles crack into Cole's jaw. I couldn't stop myself. His head whipped to the side, and blood leaked from a cut in his lip. Behind me, gasps of shock abounded.

"I'm recovered," I said. "Believe me now?"

Those violet eyes slitted when they found me. "Assault and battery is illegal."

"So have me arrested."

He closed what little distance there was between us. Suddenly I could feel his warmth of his breath caressing my skin. "How about I put you over my lap and spank you instead?"

"How about I knee your balls into your throat?"

"If you're going to play with that particular area, I'd rather you use your hands."

"My hands aren't going near that area ever again."

A pause. Then, "I bet I could change your mind," he whispered huskily.

"I bet I could bash yours." I drew back another fist, but he was ready and caught me midswing. His pupils dilated, a sign of arousal. Another sign: he began to pant. He was acting like I'd tried to unbuckle his jeans rather than smack fire out of him.

"Hit me again," he said, still using the same whispered tone, "and I'll take it as an invitation."

I was just as bad. I trembled with longing I couldn't control and struggled to catch my breath. "An invitation to do what?"

His grip loosened, his fingers rubbing my skin. A caress, not a warning. "I guess we'll find out together.”
― Gena Showalter, Through the Zombie Glass