Wild Eyes

“For all the ones who have felt crippled by the opinions of others. I hope you learn to love what you’re doing so completely that all those critical voices cease to matter. And until then, remember that thriving is winning. Go forth and thrive.”

“Breathing is overrated. I’d rather be drowning in you.”

“There’s a man who will do everything for you. And then there’s a man who is secure enough to realize there are things you need to do for yourself—who steps back and revels in watching you soar. That’s the man who’s your biggest fan.”

“No, fancy face. Those”—he points at my face, finger flicking from side to side—“are wild eyes. The eyes of a woman who just chose fight over flight. Don’t smother that. Keep ‘em and you’ll come out on top. Trust me.”

“You don't love someone only when it's convenient or easy. You love them when it's fucking awful and the world is falling apart around you.”

“It’s funny how I can be surrounded by so many people who profess to love me and still feel so utterly alone.”

“That goose is not your friend.” “Then why is he friend-shaped?”

“And if anyone ever tries to put out her fire or make her feel like she’s somehow too much, I’ll break their face.”

“Something about that guaranteed happy ending cheers me up.”

“I think if you’re going to be in a solid relationship with someone, you need to be friends on some level. Like…enjoy each other’s company. You know? My parents are so solid that way. They bicker with each other, but at the end of the day, there’s no one they’d rather bicker with. Ford and Rosie are the same. Those two were peas in a pod before they even realized they were in the same pod.”

“He’ll never know, but in that moment, he healed me. Just a little bit.”

“You done gawking? Or should I flex while I wait for you to pull that phone out and take my number?”

“My parents have come through for me at every turn. Even when I was at my wildest—at my worst—they bailed me out. They may not have always liked me, but they’ve always loved me, no matter what.”

“They never laid a hand on me in their mission to mold me into the perfect doll. But they scarred me all the same.”

“So I turn and tug her against me, taking five more minutes to snuggle with my baby girl. I don’t open my eyes, but I smile when I feel Ollie’s quiet presence as he crawls in on the other side and presses his back against mine. I can hear the soft flick of the pages in his book as he turns them. It’s the coziest moment.”

“I am done pretending that being your friend is enough”

“In the pines by, the waterIn the arms of a loverLittle hands with big hearts find meAnd I find peace”

“No. Bought it with my allowance. We just got back from the bookstore. It’s a gift.” I blink at the blue-eyed boy. And then back down at the book in my lap. People have given me gifts my entire life. Expensive gifts. Over-the-top gifts. But this… “This is my favorite gift I’ve ever received,” I tell him, my voice thick. His chin drops and he smiles shyly into his lap.”

“I glance down and realize I’m wearing the “This Guy Rubs His Own Meat” apron that Rosie got for me last Christmas.”

“No orange ones.”

“Everyone around me is creating a life, and I’m just stuck here. Alone.”

“No, when I sit in the quiet for too long with only myself for company, my constant companions turn out to be regret, fear, and resentment.”

“There’s no almost. No question, no doubt in my mind. I love you, Skylar Stone. I think I fell that day on a backroad. The first moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Weston Belmont. Rose Hill’s very own Super-Crocodile-Dundee-Man at your service,” I reply with a dramatic salute.”

“Should we shake hands or something? What’s the protocol when someone uses his body as a shield for you in an almost bear attack?”

“Skylar.” I can hear the warning tone in West’s voice and it just makes me smile. “That goose is not your friend.” “Then why is he friend-shaped?”

“With my thumb on her chin, I pop her mouth open. Hover over her lips. And spit. “You’re welcome,”

“The most full, carefree laugh I’ve ever heard. In a world that’s so manufactured, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard someone laugh as genuinely as West.”

“Yeah, sorry. I lost my train of thought there for a second.” Now it’s his turn to bite down on his bottom lip, his cheeks pinching up in a knowing smirk. “Yeah, that train was a runaway all right.”

“I have a thing for hands. I won’t even deny it.”