He watched me rake my fingers through the tangles in my hair and smiled.
“Quit it. You’re fucking beautiful.”
“Just point me to the nearest eighties rock video,” I said.

I don’t understand you, Pigeon. I thought I knew women, but you’re so fucking confusing I don’t know which way is up.”
“I don’t understand you, either. You’re supposed to be Eastern’s ladies’ man. I’m not getting the full freshmen experience they promised in the brochure,” I teased.

His eyebrows pulled in. “You won’t leave me, right? Even when I’m a pain in the ass?”
“I vowed in front of God – and Elvis – that I wouldn’t, didn’t I?

It’s going to crap everywhere, Travis. It’ll bark and whine and . . . I don’t know.”
“So does America . . . minus the crapping.

Teach that asshole some manners.”
I winked at her and smiled. “Anything for you, baby.

After climbing off his bike, I smacked his shoulder. “Did you forget I was with you? Are you trying to get me killed?”
“It’s hard to forget you’re behind me when your thighs are squeezing the life out of me.” A smirk came with his next thought. “I couldn’t think of a better way to die, actually.”
“There is something very wrong with you.