Status Updates From Uma noite de inverno com vo...

tô nervosa preciso começar e acabar esse livro hoje (no caso comecei agora)

“I called you, Marc. I apologized. The day after my birthday—I left a voicemail.”
He physically recoils, as though I just punched him in the stomach.
“You left a voicemail.”
“On your phone.”
He blinks. “Who the fuck leaves voicemails?”

He pressed a firm kiss against my lips. “I want to give you the world, Jamie. Let me. Just let me, please.”

His kiss was sudden, deep and open mouthed, nothing to everything, and in less than a second, I felt lightheaded, vibrating, ready to burst. His hands closed around my waist, pulled me to him, and a wave of simmering heat swept over me.

“But selfishly, I’m glad you didn’t spend the night with Niall.”
“I . . . Why?”
“Because when I saw you in that dress earlier tonight, I . . .” He exhaled. Shook his head. “He doesn’t deserve you. No one does.” No one. “What about you?”
“I deserve you least of all. But I want you the most. And I won’t give up. The lengths I’m willing to go to . . . One day, I’ll show you.”

Tabitha snarled. “Did you have fun telling Mom and Dad my business? I hope you did, because I’m having the time of my life telling my best friend that you’re fucking gone over her. Especially knowing that she thinks you’re just a bratty little piece of shit!”
I owlishly looked up at Marc, expecting him to burst into laughter and deny it. But there was no quick retort, no jab.

“Jamie, let me make something clear.” His voice is calm and very, very final.
“If you think I won’t tie you up and lock you in my bedroom before I let you step outside in this weather, then you don’t know me at all.”

Marc makes my heart leap and my body glow and my brain rest, and that’s not something I could bear to have and then let go of. Whenever I’m with him, I become greedy and reckless, and . . .
It’s too late, anyway. I had my chance and I blew it.