Emma

“There’s an organic grocery store just off the highway exit. I can’t remember the last time I went shopping for food.” A smile glittered in his eyes. “I might have gone overboard.”

I walked into the kitchen, with gleaming stainless-steel appliances, black granite countertops, and walnut cabinetry. Very masculine, very sleek. I went for the fridge first. Water bottles, spinach and arugula, mushrooms, gingerroot, Gorgonzola and feta cheeses, natural peanut butter, and milk on one side. Hot dogs, cold cuts, Coke, chocolate pudding cups, and canned whipped cream on the other. I tried to picture Patch pushing a shopping cart down the aisle, tossing in food as it pleased him. It was all I could do to keep a straight face.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Silence

“I had fun last night," I told Patch, flicking off my chin strap and handing over my helmet. "I'm officially in love with your sheets."

"That the only thing you're in love with?"

"Nope. Your mattress, too."

Some smile crept into Patch's eyes. "My bed's an open invitation.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Silence

“Or, if you decide you want to sleep at my place, on opposite sides of my bedroom with a Do Not Cross line drawn down the middle, I'll do it. I won't like it, but I'll do it.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Silence

“I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower."

He grinned, hopping off the bike. "Now that is an invitation.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Silence