He caught her, and he held her, and he let her cry, and cry, and cry, and he let her use his sheets to wipe her eyes, and her nose, and God knows what, because he had plenty of clean sheets, and he only had one Kat.

Hanson got to sleep with you, and I didn't,” he said, his own jaw a little tight. “So I stole his car.

I believe in love at first sight, and I believe that’s what we’ve got going here. I was willing to die for you. I’m sure as hell not going to pass up a chance to live with you.

He needed to gather her up, hold on to her, anything to help her stop trembling. Something was going to shake loose if she didn’t.

Ah, well.” He smiled-another one of those devastatingly intoxicating smiles that did unreasonable things to her body temperature and respiration.
With a nod and a respectful, “Ma’am,” he left her in the middle of the room.
Feeling like she’d been hit by a tank.

She flew into his arms. Held on tight as he swung her off her feet and hugged her so hard it hurt. She didn't care. She didn't want him to ever let go.