Inés

“You told me men don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
She walked around the counter, speaking animatedly. “Two years ago. We were at Firelight, having drinks. Cade and I had split up and you said that men don’t mope around after a breakup. You said that men avoid issues, get drunk, and pick up a new girl to forget the old one—but that you don’t brood.”
Ford held out his hands in disbelief. “How do you remember that? And I’m not brooding.”
She folded her arms across her chest and looked at him.
“I know you’re my friend,” he said. “But please, for once, can you just act like you have a penis?
Because I don’t want to talk about this.”
She shrugged. “Fine. We’ll just sit here and listen to music.” She reached for his phone again.
“Have you heard Taylor Swift’s new song?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re going to—on endless repeat until you start talking.”
― Julie James, Suddenly One Summer

“Just because I did the proposing doesn't mean I don't want a ring."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it."
"I'll pick it out."
"No, you won't."
"Why not? I'm the one who'll be wearing it."
"You're the one wearing your face, too, but you didn't pick that out, either."
On a sigh, she knelt beside him. "That makes absolutely no sense." But she tipped her head onto
his shoulder as he worked. "When I came here I was scared and angry. Now I'm scared, angry and
happy. It's better," she decided. "A lot better.”
― Nora Roberts, The Villa

“Noah, if we were to get married, you couldn't date anymore.”
― Julie Garwood, Shadow Dance