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Molly Fyde and the Parsona Rescue (The Bern Saga #1) Hourglass (Evernight #3)

I perfected the art of the resting bitch face, however, and one nasty look from me shut them right up. It probably didn’t hurt that, on the first day of high school when my name was announced and my fellow classmates snickered, I told them my name means fiery one and they shouldn’t piss me off or I’d burn their asses. I may or may not have also said something to the effect of my family being in the mob…what can you do? High school is a bitch, and so am I.

Babe, did you see the stuff my mom left for you in the kitchen? My parents were just here visiting; once they heard I had a girlfriend, they didn’t hesitate to fly out to meet her from whatever city they’ve been staying in.No, I haven’t. What has she done now?

Ship of Destiny (Liveship Traders #3)

My mother immediately took to Teddy, and in the two months since we officially started dating, she has already begun mentally planning a wedding. I don’t know how I feel about my mom’s meddling, considering Teddy and I haven’t even had sex yet, but there’s nothing I can do.Had some clothes sent I think, sweaters and stuff from the department store—she said to keep what you want and send back what you don’t.Because that’s what Lilian Carmichael does. I take a stack of folded clothes, brand new with tags, off the counter and hold them up. See? These are for me. Half of them are too small.

Moving Pictures (Discworld #10)

My mom still doesn’t get that I’m six foot four and don’t wear a size large—haven’t since I was a freshman in high school.She can’t help herself, babe. I apologize. I’m sorry.

Don’t apologize—it’s so thoughtful. I’ll have to send her a thank you text.

Between my mother and sister, the three of them have this weird group text where they send memes and jokes back and forth almost every day—most of them at my expense. Har har.My hands smooth down the front pleats of my yellow skirt and when I look up, I notice his eyes tracking my fingers.

No! I mean, not these guys specifically. And not just any guy. A gentleman—someone smart, who can make me laugh and have a good time. Someone on a career track so I—we—never have to struggle financially—like my Mom always had to after my dad walked out on her. Us.He says it in that tone you reserve for your idiot friends who can’t take a hint or don’t have a clue.

Wardrobe Malfunction (Wardrobe #1)

Our eyes connect when I look up. He’s so tall I have to stretch my neck and tilt my head back to meet his gaze.This guy. How do I describe him?

Crude. He’s already said pussy twice, and the set of his lips is sarcastic, even if no words are coming out of them at the moment.He’s a giant, taller than anyone else in the room—or anyone I’ve ever met for that matter. Six three? Six five?

My eyes rake down his chest—his shirt is actually nice, looks expensive, despite the droplets of beer soaking in beneath the logo on his right pec. His hair is dirty blond and long, pulled up into a topknot—much like the one I wear when I’m in a rush and have no time to do my hair, only his is messier.He has a mustache and beard too—not one of those neatly groomed, manscaped ones that are so trendy right now.

His is…unkempt, untrimmed, burly. Kind of pre-mountain man meets college hobo meets mass murderer in training. I’ve never seen a beard like this on a college kid. Once, in high school, there was this wrestler with one, a big, burly, farm kid who gave zero shits about what anyone thought. He did what he wanted, including sporting a beard, which I don’t think was allowed. He looked older than most of the faculty.The thought makes me smile. Shit, what was his name…Mitch? Darren?

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