“As she relaxed against his chest, he pulled her in closer. Turning her face into his shirt, she breathed in the calming scent that was him. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into the fabric. One big hand stroked over her head,… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“(Chris) “Katie, seriously. He’s a jock with entitlement issues. What about that could I possibly like?” “Well…” Her friend trailed off and Chris could… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“Why the hell are we going to dance up on platforms like go-go dancers? We’ll look like strippers.” “Don’t take any money. It doesn’t… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“We can only be ourselves in the long run. Everyone can be someone else for a time. Actors have jobs for a reason. But… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“She shrugged one shoulder, shifting the fabric of her shirt to drop over the other one, exposing her shoulder. He was thirteen again. That… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“(Brett) “Making friends?” She jerked, then her spine straightened into posture nuns would be proud of and she turned her head. “He’s hard to… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“As she relaxed against his chest, he pulled her in closer. Turning her face into his shirt, she breathed in the calming scent that… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“(Brett) “Never been to a football game either?” His voice lowered to a gravelly hush. “Well, like I said. We’ll make up for lost… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“He (Brett) handed her the drink over her shoulder. She looked up and smiled, saying thanks. The table was covered with notepads and pens.… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“His tongue swept in, gentle and sweet, but also intense. She tasted spearmint, like he’d been chewing gum. He smelled like grass from the… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“She’d been given gifts before. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets. Weekend trips to the Bahamas or a day at the spa. Expensive—but meaningless—trinkets that showed Dax… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
“Following their line of vision, he found the distraction. The damn tennis team, running the perimeter of the football field in some half-assed formation,… — Jeanette Murray Copy Share Image
