K.A. Tucker Quotes

I want her to meet me. Trent Emerson. The guy who wants to feel the warmth that I know exists within her. The guy who's tied to her forever, whether she likes it or not. The one who needs to somehow make things right with her because I made everything so wrong.

I'm sorry ... " She shrugs, glancing back at him. "Gotta admit he's hot, though, Livie. He looks like a Mediterranean underwear model. There'd be no coyote-ugly situation in the morning there.

Now that I've come to terms with the fact that the bastard is going to affect me whether I like it or not, he's even hotter than before.

Trent's chest rises with a quick inhale as his hands lift to grab mine and pull them out, placing them with a pat on the outside of his shirt. "Okay, you win. But don't do that while I'm driving or we'll end up in a ditch." He looks over his shoulder again, adding in a soft, solemn tone, "I'm serious, Kacey. I can't handle it.

Maybe we're both lucky to have found each other.

1. I'm brilliant
2. I'm charming
3. I'm hung like a thoroughbred
4. I've stopped all philandering
5. I'm highly skilled, as you've learned the other night.
P.S. Stop staring at my hands. I know what you want me to with them.

You said you wanted to forget everything. But ... I don't want you to ever forget a thing that happened between us. Ever."
The most gentle of smiles passes over Ashton's face. "Irish, if there's one thing I've never been able to forget, it's single second with you.

Money is a tantalizing whore, isn't she?

I haven't forgotten what you did for me, River. I'll never forget."
"I'd do it again. A thousand times over.

I don't hate you. I could never hate you. Give me your heart, Kacey. I'll take everything that comes with it.

One mistake I will never regret for the rest of my life, it is Ashton Henley.

I like a woman with a bit of fire in her.

Jesse."
My head springs up with a deep breath of panic. Alex's face appears in my blurry vision. I guess I managed to fall asleep in this old chair after all. Now I feel worse than when I sat down.
"Come." She takes my hand and tugs me until I get out of the chair, leading me to the bed. It's still dark out, but the fire casts enough glow.
"Wait, let me get the-"
"No, this is perfect. Really." She's still whispering. the girl who drives a BMW Z8, and she wears probably two years' worth my salary on her finger, curls up on an unmade bed with an old wool blanket and says it's perfect.

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For all that I hate about what I've done, there's one thing I can't regret.
It led me to him.

Reagan has won over my undying love, but I'm willing to date around while she sows her wild oats.

You'll make friends for life here. People you can call up twenty years from now, for anything, and they'll be there for you. I promise you, you won't regret these days, ever.

If only smiling wasn't such a drain.

For two years, I haven't given anyone the time of day. Now, here I am, day one into our new life, and I'm ready to straddle this guy on the washer.

He leans in closer and closer until his breath caresses my mouth. I'm paralyzed. I swear he's going to kiss me. I swear I'm going to let him.

Tossing it to a corner, he turns back to take my hand. And I'm facing the chest that I've not been able to dislodge from my brain for weeks. The one that instantly makes my breath hitch. The one that I've never had a chance to stare at so blatantly while sober. And I do stare now. Like a deer caught in headlights, I can't seem to turn away as I take in all the ridges and curves.
"What does that mean?" I ask, jutting my chin toward the inked symbol over his heart. Ashton doesn't answer. He avoids the question completely by sliding his thumb across my bottom lip.
"You have a bit of drool there,

I want your womanizing mama's-boy football-player butt all to myself and if I catch you with any Twinkies or beautify queens or anyone else, you'd better run fast because I will hunt you down.

Life up here may be simple but it's not easy, and it's not for everyone. Water runs out; pipes freeze; engines won't start; it's dark for eighteen, nineteen hours a day, for months. Even longer in the far north. Up here it's about having enough food to eat, and enough heat to stay alive through the winter. It's about survival, and enjoying the company of the people that surround us. It's not about whose house is the biggest, or who has the nicest clothes, or the most money. We support each other because we're all in this together.

"And people either like that way of life or they don't; there's no real in-between. People like Wren and Jonah, they find they can't stay away from it for too long. And people like Susan, well . . . they never warm up to it. They fight the challenges instead of embracing them, or at least learning to adapt to them." Agnes pauses, her mouth open as if weighing whether she should continue. "I don't agree with the choices Wren made where you're concerned, but I know it was never a matter of him not caring about you. And if you want to blame people for not trying, there's plenty of it to go around." Agnes turns to smile at me then. "Or you could focus on the here-and-now, and not on what you can't change.

He has feelings for you." Dakota's eyes have that dreamy look in them. "Deep, consuming feelings. The kind that dominate your thoughts and control your decisions. And feed your soul.

I also sensed the tectonic shift somewhere deep inside – my time in Alaska had changed me in ways I couldn't pinpoint but also couldn't ignore. Who I was and who I am now seem like two different people.

Whatever makes you comfortable," he says easily. "I don't want you to worry. I'll take good care of you." I smile. And believe him.

He said the truth is like that of water: it doesn't matter how hard you try to bury it; it'll always find it's way to the surface. It's resilient.

Do You think it matters if they're tiny or deep? he asked. Well, if they're not tiny breaths and they're not deep breaths, then they're just ... breaths. Then you're just breathing for the sake of ... breathing.
... Seize them. Feel them. Love them ...

I'd fix it all for you if I could. You know that, right?" He whispers. I wonder if he's talking about my scars or the last four years of my life. "Yes," is all I say. Yes to all of it.

Seriously? You've never done this for your friends before?" Trent shrugs. He manages to stay straight-faced for another three seconds before a sly smile betrays him. "Yeah, tons of times. But I liked letting you feel me up." A loud chorus of snickers and laughter erupts. They all knew he was playing me. How did they all know and I have no clue? Probably because I'm too busy drooling over his body to notice his practiced movements.

This man was once my salvation. Now, he will be my ruin.

He's not like any other guy I've dated or crushed on. And while he's capable of making my blood boil like no one else, I feel a magnetic pull toward him that I can't explain.

It does feel magical. It does feel like a fairy tale. That a man like Brett – so charming, so talented, so breathtakingly handsome, so seemingly perfect in every way – would become infatuated with an ordinary woman like me.

Because of those last moments with Billy, the very idea of my hands wrapped in someone else's has plagued me, making my heart stop, my stomach drop, my vision blurry, my muscles spasm, and sweat pour down my back all at once. Until now.

What if he's a psychopath who tries to stuff kittens in ATMs?

I think I'm going to fall in love with this man.

Such a precious sun it is, the one that shines after a cold, harsh rain.

People's entire lives can be uncovered in phones. Maybe

He nods as I begrudgingly drop my hands and step over to my side, getting ready for a kick. "Seriously? You've never done this for your friends before?"
Trent shrugs. He manages to stay straight-faced for another three seconds before a sly smile betrays him. "Yeah, tons of times. But I liked letting you feel me up.

I walk away. I walk away from the voices, the shouts, the disappointment.
I walk away from my deceptions, my mistakes, my regrets. I walk away from all that I am supposed to be and all I cannot be. For all of it is a lie.

I could lay here and stare at him forever. I don't want to let go. Ever.

Look at me, Kacey." I do. I look up and let myself sink into those blue eyes, so full of worry and pain and desire.
"I'll make you whole again, Kacey. I promise you, I will," he whispers. And then his mouth covers mine.

Do I abide by the black-and-white limits I've set for myself because that's who I truly am or because that's who I am while being judged? And how far into that gray area might I venture before I go running back to my familiar boundaries?

Boys do suck the brains out of smart girls.

You know you're a rig, right?"…
"Yeah, but I'm your pig tonight.

There's no getting better, Storm. This is it. There's no coming back from the dead.

I grit my teeth. Despite everything, I mutter with a smile, "No."
"No, what?"
"No, I'm glad you came."
"I haven't ... yet."I slap my book across his arm, blushing furiously.
"You're impossible."
"And you're incredible.

Forever's a long time." Trent's arms squeeze around me. "Forever's not long enough when it's with you.

Did I think he was "the one?" Iʼll never know. At sixteen, everyone is "the one.

I do love Oregon." My gaze wanders over the quiet, natural beauty surrounding us, which isn't limited to just this garden. "Being near the river, and the ocean, and the rocky mountains, and all this nature ... the weather."
He chuckles. "I've never met anyone who actually loves rain. It's kind of weird. But cool, too," he adds quickly, as if afraid to offend me. "I just don't get it."
I shrug. "It's not so much that I love rain. I just have a healthy respect for what if does. People hate it, but the world needs rain. It washes away dirt, dilutes the toxins in the air, feeds drought. It keeps everything around us alive."
"Well, I have a healthy respect for what the sun does," he counters with a smile."
"I'd rather have the sun after a good, hard rainfall."
He just shakes his head at me but he's smiling. "The good with the bad?"
"Isn't that life?"
He frowns. "Why do I sense a metaphor behind that?"
"Maybe there is a metaphor behind that." One I can't very well explain to him without describing the kinds of things I see every day in my life. The underbelly of society - where twisted morals reign and predators lurk, preying on the lost, the broken, the weak, the innocent. Where a thirteen-year-old sells her body rather than live under the same roof as her abusive parents, where punks gang-rape a drunk girl and then post pictures of it all over the internet so the world can relive it with her. Where a junkie mom's drug addiction is readily f

My limbs curl around his body as I watch his broad chest heave with each thrust, and his hooded eyes alight with fire, our gazes locked, and I wonder how on earth I could ever possibly have not wanted this man.

I've never had two sisters ... " he begins with a suggestive arched brow.
Oh. My. God.
"And you never will. Not these two sisters, anyway."
He shrugs. "Not at the same time, maybe."
"Don't worry. When my baby sister gets laid for the first time, it won't be with you."
"Do you know what you just did?"
"Painted a big virginal bull's-eye on your back?" Kacey confirms with a scrunched-up face.

Ohmigod, I moan, clutching my stomach. I'm sure I'm going to be sick. I'm going to become an exhibitionist vomiter.
My heart is back to beating - racing, actually - as a new level beyond mortification slams into me. I sounded just like the actress in that awful video of Ben's that Kacey made me watch over the summer. Literally. I accidently walked in on those weirdos watching it one night. Kacey took that as an opportunity to pin me down on the couch while Trent, Dan, and Ben howled with laughter at my flaming cheeks and horrified shrieks.
My sister is the Antichrist. This is all her fault. Hers and Stayner's. And those stupid Jell-O shooters.

Sometimes jn your life you make a decision and you find yourself questioning it. A lot. You don't regret it, exactly.you know that you probably made the best choice and that you're probably better off for it. But you do spend a lot of time wondering what the hell you were thinking

And if that's all he's looking for then we'll set fire to his balls."
"What?" Storm's face twists in a mixture of shock and amusement.
I shrug. "What can I say, Storm? I'm into some weird shit.

If you're not interested in me, just tell me. You don't have to ruin me for all women."
"I'm more about action than words." I'm glad he's making jokes, but I still wince. I drop to a crouch in front of Trent and ask in a low voice, "Are you okay? Seriously?"
"Yeah, I'll live. And by live, I mean curl up in the fetal position on my couch with a bag of ice on my nuts for the rest of the night."
"I'll hold the ice," I offer in a soft whisper.

Any rose can succumb to rot, given the right conditions. But, with enough attention, it can come back better than before.

That's the difference between the birds I'm used to and a girl like Amber

If there's such thing as a virgin slut, I believe I fit the description.

He said the truth is like that water: it doesn't matter how hard you try to bury it; it'll always find some way back to the surface. It's resilient.

What were you thinking?"
"Not much, clearly."I hear the exasperation in Kacey's voice.
"I don't know about you, Livie ... Sometimes you're as graceful as a one-legged flamingo in a pit of quicksand.

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I have shamed Mr. Cuervo

I want to be like water too. I want to be resilient, to go where I'm meant to go.

When you said hold the ice ... "
"I thought you were near death over there," I answer, breathless. "That doesn't feel fatal."
"I was, but you are one hot chick when you pound on the right bag." He jerks me back against him hard and I yelp. Not in pain. No, definitely not pain.

Must have been some kind a nightmare."
"Yeah," I answer, my usual calm, vacant voice returning. "Can't wait to wake up.

I might take risks, but they're always worth it.

He forces my head back as his tongue connects with mine, his mouth sweet and fresh. He's strong, that much I can sense. If I wanted to, I don't think I could fight him off. But I don't want to. Not one bit.

There's something different about him, and I don't have to think hard to see it. Something about the way he takes over a room, the way he looks at me, like he has already identified and can disarm every one of my defense mechanisms with no effort, like he sees through them to the disaster lying beneath. And he wants it.

The only thing I regret is that it ever ended. And I'm the one who's jealous. Insanely so.

Yeah,Livie?"
"How do you figure out the right way to live your life?" There's a long pause. So long that I check the screen of my cell phone to see if the call is still connected.
"Trial and error, Livie. That's the only way that I know of.

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My best friend will demand a girls' night out and then act like it's a complete coincidence that her boyfriend shows up, even though I watched her text him our exact location a half hour before.

I crave his presence, his body, his voice, his laugh, his everything.
I need him.
I need Trent.

The signs include warnings of wildlife dangers. I can't help but wonder if they should also have warnings for idiot girls who follow guys they hardly know into the swamp.

I don't have all the pieces to fix this beautiful, trapped, broken man, but I do have one piece and it's mine to give. For one night, for all nights. For however long he wants it. Me. Completely.

I'll make you whole again, Kacey. I promise you, I will.

I'm giving you your freedom tonight, Ashton. So fucking take it. I don't regret a second of it. Not as he flips me onto my back. Not as he pushes into my body without hesitation. Not as I cry out with that moment of pain. And certainly not as he claims his freedom. And gives me a part of mine.

Here. Tea." Reagan hands me a steaming mug. One sip tells me it's not just tea.
"You spiked the drink of an injured person," I state flatly, the alcohol burning in my throat.
"Who does that?"
"It's better than what a lame horse gets,

Livie: Connor where's your bathroom?
Connor: there's one through that doorway, around the corner. First right.
Grant: oh, I'd give that one hour. Ty was in there. It's not suitable for ladies. Or most humans.
Ty: It's that damn chilli your mama made

I'm crazy about you and you won't even answer my calls. I need to know how to fix that so you'll give me a chance. Please.

This is me. This is what I want. I could trade it all today, for this. Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever stepped into a place and just known that you were meant to be there?

Kyle may not have forgotten me, but he doesn't seem to want to remember us.

But that's not even what she's asking. Cassie wants to know if I'll still walk home with her after school every day, if I'll watch movies with her that I miss hald of because I'm answering her bizarre questions; if I'll still tolerate her mindless chatter and scattered conversations.
If I'll still be nice to her.
This girl who speaks slowly and runs awkwardly, who can only manage short spurts of eye contact and stiffens under anyone's touch, who struggles to match appropriate emotions with situations.
Who finds joy in the simplest of things, who will never sit at a cafeteria table or in a bathroom and say mean things behind people's back.
Who understands more than most people give her credit for.
Who's heart can't seem to hold animosity, even towards those who have been cruel to her.
Who only ever wanted to be a friend to me since the moment she stepped out of her mom's car with a bag of cookies.
"Of course, I will," I promise.
"Yeah, okay." She finally looks up to offer me a wide grin and a nod. "Are you going to eat those Junior Mints?

What's wrong is that every morning and every night, I lie in bed wondering why you're not beside me.

I need you in my life like I need to fly. Like I need this Alaskan air. More than I need this air.

It doesn't even - " one word "hurt " was supposed to come out of my mouth. Instead, a string of obscenities to make a lifelong sailor proud shoot out.
"What thefuck are you doing? Shit! You don't pour it on like that, you fucking jackhole! Fuck!"
I'm seething in pain, the sting agonizing. Ashton isn't paying any heed, turning my hand this way and that to examine it closer.
"Looks clean."
"Yeah, because you just bleached the shit out of it!"
"Relax. It'll stop stinging soon. Distract yourself by staring at me while we wait for this to settle down. That's how you got yourself into this mess to begin with ...

I… that took a lot of guts, what you did today."
"Can't really pretend it didn't happen anymore, right?" And being a better person doesn't mean hiding from or lying about who I used to be.
"So much of what you talked about is shit that happens in school very day, Aria. The gossip, the text messages, the comments. People do it all the time. Everyone does it. I've done it. Doesn't make it okay but… I can see how it spiralled out of control like that."
I shrug. "I figured, if my story makes people stop and think about what their words could do to a person, then I should tell it right?"
"Right." He nods slowly, his eyes roaming my face.
"I miss you," I don't mean to say it aloud, but it slips out anyway.
He offers me a sad smile. "I miss you, too, AJ.

I don't care about any of it. All I want to do is lean forward and kiss him. Steal him away from the bad stuff, convince him to start over because I believe he isn't beyond saving yet.

It's not funny, Kacey!" I hiss. "That guy forced himself on me!"
She rolls her eyes but then, after a long pause, she sighs. "Yeah, you're right." Reaching over, she pinches the guy's arm without hesitation. "Hey, buddy!"
"You do that to her again and I'll sneak into your room and rip your balls off while you sleep, capisce?" she warns with a pointed finger. Most times my sister's threats involve the mutilation of testicles.

No human can bury their past indefinitely. It's only a matter of time before you crack.

What hold does Alaksa have on them? What makes this place worth giving everything else up?

A part of me wants to spin around and slam the bottom of my heel into her head. In kick-boxing, we'd call that a Spinning Back Kick. Here, it's called, "how to get my crazy jealous ass fired." There's no way I'd get a thumbs up from Cain on that part.

Out past isn't who we are. I'm me and you're you and that's who we need to be.

What do you want from me? Right now, from me," he whispers against my mouth.
My breath catches. Has he asked me that before?
Or have I only wished he has?
I swallow against my ball of nerves. "I don't want to be afraid.

Carpe diem, miss. Foolish youth is a strange and wondrous time that vanishes too quickly.

Society is better off with me in a gym.

Life has a funny way of creating it's own tests. It throws curve balls that make you do and think and feel things that are in direct conflict with what you had planned and don't allow you to operate in terms of black and white.

She's so dark, so harsh, so wounded. Her prickly exterior would keep most everyone away.
And yet all I want to do is get closer.

You remembered."
"Of course I did. I remembered everything.

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Trent has kept his promise. He makes me smile every day.

His gentleman's hesitation in the car earlier is gone, replaced with a confidence that provokes.

We are simply two good people with equally flawed pasts, looking for perfect futures.
And I think we've found it, in each other.