The way I feel about you . . . it’s crazy.”<br />“You got the crazy part right,” she snapped, pulling away from me.<br />“I practiced this in my head the whole time we were on the bike, so just hear me out.”<br />“Travis—”<br />“I know we’re fucked-up, all right? I’m impulsive and hot tempered, and you get under my skin like no one else. You act like you hate me one minute, and then you need me the next. I never get anything right, and I don’t deserve you . . . but I fucking love you, Abby. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone or anything, ever. When you’re around, I don’t need booze or money or the fighting or the one-night stands . . . all I need is you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I dream about. You’re all I want.