Simran

“Coach: "All right, Patch. let's say you're at a party. the room is full of girls of all shapes and sizes. You see blondes, brunettes, redheads, a few girl with black hair. Some are talkive, while other appear shy. You've one girl who fits your profile - attractive, intelligent and vulnerable. Dow do you let her know you're interested?"

Patch: "Single her out. Talk to her."

Coach: "Good. Now for the big question - how do you know if she's game or if she wants you to move on?"

Patch: "I study her. I figure out what she's thinking and feeling. She's not gonig to come right out and tell me, which is why i have to pay attention. Does she turn her body toward mine? Does she hold me eyes, then look away? Does she bite her lip and play with her hair, the way Nora is doing right now?”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Hush, Hush

“Hang on, did you just call me Angel?" I asked.
"If I did?"
"I don't like it."
He grinned. "It stays, Angel.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Hush, Hush

“Is there any point asking what you're going to make me do on Sunday?'
'Not really.'
Okay. 'Is there any point asking what you're going to do to me?'
He grinned wickedly. 'Not really.'
Fabulous. 'Does it involve the use of a safe word?'
'That will depend entirely on you.' Noah moved impossibly closer, just inches away. A few freckles disappeared into the scruff on his jaw. 'I'll be gentle,' Noah added. My breath caught in my throat as he looked at me from beneath those lashes, ruining me.
I narrowed my eyes at him. 'You're evil.'
In response, Noah smiled, and raised his finger to gently tap the tip of my nose. 'And you're mine,' he said, then walked away.”
― Michelle Hodkin, The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer

“In my rush, I hadn’t tied my shoelaces. Noah was now tying them for me.
He looked up at me through his dark fringe of lashes and smiled. The expression on his face melted me completely. I knew I had the goofiest grin plastered on my lips, and didn’t care.
“There,” he said as he finished tying the laces on my left shoe. “Now you won’t fall.”
Too late.”
― Michelle Hodkin, The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer