“It doesn't say a damn thing. My pride deflates like a limp penis.” — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“I wonder if Blue knows she’s repainting her room.I wonder if he’s asking if she wants a ride to the party tonight.I… — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“Can you take me back into town?" I say. "I can't get my voicemails." "Why don't you calm down, D-Dub. I know… — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“Speak up, Charlie,” I say. “If you have something to say, then say it out loud.” — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“Her wavy hair falls to mid-waist, and I think how she looks better this way. From the back.” — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“Looking mighty fine, if I do say so myself: red v-neck, dark denim, designer combat boots, and enough testosterone rolling off me… — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“All I care about is showing this chode exactly who he's messing with. Throwing my door open, I step out. If he… — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“As Charlie is leaving the house, she somehow trips on the threshold and nearly face-plants onto the ground. I roll my eyes. How is… — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“In this trunk," she says with a serious face, "is God's gift to women." "Chocolate?" "No." "Midol?" "What? No." "Tampons?" "Stop guessing," she says.” — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“You don’t know who you’re fucking with, princess. Ain’t no one do bad like I do.” — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“His pinched expression looks like he just smelled his own asshole.” — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“The front door is painted a rich, bright red. The corners of my mouth curl into a smile. Have I mentioned my love affair… — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“My lips move against hers, and the kiss says everything I'd hoped to hear. It tells me she loves me, and that she's in… — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“There's the guy who trained me, you sexy son-of-a-bitch. I knew you could do this. I told the assistant, I said, 'Do you even… — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“I glance in the mirror. Surprise, surprise—I look finger-lickin’ delicious.” — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“It's not strange seeing her now, even knowing the things I know. I thought maybe it would be, but it's not. To me, she's… — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“I point a finger at her. “Thanks, babe.” “I am not your babe.” “Whatev.” — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
“At the end of the walkway is a cat. It struts with arrogance. You'd think it just won the Nobel Prize. But it didn't.… — Victoria Scott Copy Share Image
