Becca Fitzpatrick Quotes - Page 5

Vee: And I'm not going to let you sit at home all afternoon with your sour face on. Nora: I don't have a sour face. Vee: Yes, you do. And you're wearing it right now. Nora: This is my annoyed face. You woke me up at six in the morning!

Nora: What are you planning? Patch: I wouldn't call this planning. I'd call this throwing a Hail Mary with seconds left on the clock.

You want a blood relative to lead your army? Get Marcie. She likes ordering people around. She'll be a natural.

Nora: I have questions. Patch: I should have known you've only been keeping me around for answers. Nora: Well, that and your kisses. Anyone ever tell you you're an incredible kisser?

class was like watered down porn today. Vee said

Your file was empty. Nothing. Not even an immunization record.” He didn’t even pretend to look surprised. He eased back in his seat, eyes gleaming obsidian. “And you’re telling me this because you’re afraid I might cause an outbreak? Measles or mumps?” “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that I know something about you isn’t right. You haven’t fooled everybody. I’m going to find out what you’re up to. I’m going to expose you.” “Looking forward to it.” I flushed, catching the innuendo too late.

Her hair was strawberry blond, and she had the shape of a popsicle stick: turn her sideways and she practically disappeared.

Your past wouldn’t frighten me,” I said, buckling my seat belt across my lap. “I’m guessing I’d be more appalled than anything.

I’m not going to kill you, Nora. I don’t kill people who are important to me. And you top the list.

What is it with you and girls’ bathrooms?

Who wants to kill you?” the guy asked. He was still looking over his shoulder, but his expression was puzzled. “There’s nobody there,” the girlfriend told me. “You’re making them think they can’t see you, aren’t you?” I said to Patch, awed by his power even as I despised his use of it.

Shh!" the guy beside me hissed again. "Blame him," I told the guy, pointing at Patch. The guy craned his neck back. "Listen," he said, facing me again. "If you don't quiet down, I'll get security." "Fine, go get security. Tell them to take him away," I said, again signaling Patch. "Tell them he wants to kill me." "I want to kill you," hissed the guy's girlfriend.

Walk out,” he repeated. “We need to talk.” “About how you need to sacrifice me to get a human body?” I asked, my tone light, my insides feeling leaden. “That might be cute if you thought it was true.

He cracked a slight smile, but it didn’t look amused. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. You’re looking a little deranged, Angel. We’ll go together.

The subject’s pulse increased on contact,” he said. “Don’t write that.

A girl could lather up in soap like that.

First,” he said, coming behind me and placing his hands on the counter, just outside of mine, “choose your tomato.” He dipped his head so his mouth was at my ear. His breath was warm, tickling my skin. “Good. Now pick up the knife.” “Does the chef always stand this close?” I asked, not sure if I liked or feared the flutter his closeness caused inside me. “When he’s revealing culinary secrets, yes.

The older woman waiting for admittance looked at me, then over her shoulder at Patch, who was vanishing down the hall. “Honey,” she told me, “he looks slippery as soap.

I need to get back to work,” Patch said. He gave me a once-over that lingered a bit below the hips. “Killer skirt. Deadly legs.

Cooking isn’t taught,” Patch said. “It’s inherent. Either you’ve got it or you don’t. Like chemistry. You think you’re ready for chemistry?” I pressed the knife down through the tomato; it split in two, each half rocking gently on the cutting board. “You tell me. Am I ready for chemistry?” Patch made a deep sound I couldn’t decipher and grinned.

There was no sign of Jules. “Bad news,” said Elliot. “The man is sick. You’re going to have to settle for me.” “Sick?” Vee demanded. “How sick? What kind of excuse is sick?” “Sick as in it’s coming out both ends.” Vee scrunched her nose. “Too much information.

You’re crowding me. I need— room.”... What I needed were boundaries. I needed willpower. I needed to be caged up, since yet again I was proving I couldn’t be trusted in Patch’s presence. I should have been bolting for the door, and yet … I wasn’t.

Door’s locked,” he said. “And we have unfinished business.

I couldn't picture myself with a boyfriend, but if I had to, I envisioned a nice normal guy who turned in his math homework on time and maybe even played rec baseball.

My arms hurt from how tightly Patch held me. “Now that’s what I call a scream,” he said, grinning at me.