Tammy Falkner Quotes

You think I need to be loved calmly and carefully," she says slowly.
I nod, sucking my piercing into my mouth to toy with it.
"You want to know what I think?" she asks.
"What?" I grunt. Apparently, I've turned into a caveman who can only speak in monosyllables.
"I think I need to be loved… completely.

God, I can't breathe when I'm around you, Peck. I can't think. I love you, and I don't want to be apart from you. Ever.

Those boys are like my family. When I didn't have anyone, they were there." There's a story here, and I really want to know what it is. "You have a family," she says. "So if you fuck mine up, I will cut you." She wields a plastic fork in my direction, but then she starts to laugh. "I'm just kidding," she says. "Well, sort of.

I see you," I say quietly to her.
"Well, I hope so," she whispers back. I look into her eyes.
"No, Faith. I mean I really see you. I see you. All of you.

That's when I know I've raised a good man, when he learns something new and doesn't judge." Then

If I ever get to fucking be inside you, I want to know what to call you. I want to at least know your name. Because when that happens, you're going to fucking own me." I tip her face up so she's looking at me. "Do you understand?"
She looks unsure.
"You're going to own me … And there's nothing I want more.

I want you, Reagan. I want every piece of you."
"Even the shattered pieces?" she asks. I bracket her face with my hands and pull her face up to mine. "I'll be the glue that puts you back together,

Every woman is someone's daughter. Someone at home loves her. And you devalue her and every other female by referring to women as bitches and hos." I'm from the neighborhood. I could spout off a lot coarser words than they could probably imagine. But they get the idea. "The girl you're with is someone's daughter. You have to remember that when you treat a woman poorly.

We can make little cupcakes together. You can be my plus-one. Or it can just be me and you. But you and me is not negotiable. I kind of need you, cupcake. Have ever since I met you." I

He squeezes my hand. "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you, cupcake," he says. "I just wish you could love me back.

She's not in the right position for what I want," …
He grins. "Well, what position did you want her in?"
"Shut up," I grouse.
"If she's in the wrong position, flip her the fuck over." He throws up his hands. "Hell, turn her upside down if you have to.

Don't leave me again," he says.
"I won't.

She gets up, and I want to grab her and pull her to me. "I had better get to bed." She stretches, and I can see the little strip of skin between the bottom of her shirt and her jeans. I reach up and tug her shirt down. She covers her belly with her hand, like she wants to block my touch. She stares into my eyes. She doesn't say a word. "Can I kiss you yet?" I blurt out. God, you'd think I'd never seen a girl before. "No." She laughs. "Can I keep asking?" She nods.

I sit down next to him, and he pulls me to his side. Then he lies down so that I'm draped across him. My hip is tucked between him and the back of the couch. "I don't want to go home yet," he says quietly. He pulls my head down to his chest, and I press my face against it. His hand settles on the back of my head, and he starts to stroke down the length of my hair. "Then don't go," I say quietly. He doesn't. He just threads his fingers into my hair and drags them down my back, over and over, until my eyelids grow heavy and I fall asleep on his chest. I wake up the next morning tucked into my own bed, the covers pulled up to my chin. I sit up and look around. Beside me on the pillow is a note. I open it up and read. Are you in love with me yet?

He wasn't in a lot of pain, was he?" he asks. "Not that I could tell." He was convulsing but not in pain. I doubt he was feeling much. "That's my biggest fear. That he'll be in a lot of pain when it happens. It scares me to death." "So you've thought about it," I blurt out. I want to take it back immediately, but it's too late. "Thought about it." He snorts. "It's all I ever fucking think about. Ever." His voice cracks on the last word. "I'm his big brother. I'm supposed to be able to save him from anything that could hurt him. But I can't save him from this." I just listen because there's nothing I can say to comfort him. A teardrop rolls down his cheek, and he brushes it away with a hurried swipe. "He knows how much you care," I say. It's probably the wrong thing to tell him. "The fucker better know how I feel about him. I'd die for every last one of them. I wish it was me instead of him. I'd trade places with him in a heartbeat." "He wouldn't let you." It's the truth.

He lifts my arm and kisses the tattoo on my inner wrist. I look down at the tat that started it all. He set me free when he unlocked my world. He's the peace in my soul. He's the one who opened my shackles, and I'll love him forever.

I've been locked in my own world for a really long time," he says. I have an excuse to keep people away, because of my disability. And then I saw your tattoo..." I turn his wrist over and trace my finger across it. He shudders at my touch, closing his eyes tightly. "And I felt like maybe, just maybe, we were locked in our own little worlds and could let each other out.

I don't think I'm ever going to want to start using condoms after this baby gets here," she says. "Good. Because I'm going to get you pregnant as soon as you have this one." "Okay," she says. And I can feel her smile against my chest. I palm the back of her head and tug her hair so she'll look up at me. "Okay?" "Yes. Get me pregnant. Please. Make a baby with me. Make our family bigger." She throws her arms open wide. "I want it to be fucking huge." "Okay," I whisper. "You're in, Paul." "Yes, I'm in." I'm further in than I ever dreamed she would let me be.

Shit," Paul says. "She paid for Matt's treatment." "What?" I'm still dumbfounded. "She went back home for you," he explains. He still has Matt on the phone, and he's talking to both of us at the same time. She did it all for me. "She did it for me," I say out loud. "You lucky fucker," Paul says, punching me in the arm. "She'll be back for the spring session at Juilliard." Warm happiness settles around me like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. Paul nods. "Matt will be home by then." We all hope Matt will be home by then. Matt has a chance to come home, and it's all because of Emily. I jump up, and Paul pulls me into a hug. "She'll be back?" I ask. I can't wrap my head around it all. "She's not gone for good?" "She just told the whole fucking world how much she loves you, you jackass." Paul punches me in the shoulder again. She's coming back. To Juilliard. To me.

You're like a Christmas present," he [Josh] sais
"How so?" [Star]
"Wrapped up really pretty on the outside with bows and glitz."
"You think I'm really pretty?" I grin. I can't help it.

I have a thing for you," I admit. I wince inwardly because it sounds so lame.
"A thing?"
"A big thing."
Her gaze drops.
"Not that thing.

The Reeds take people in like they're family. Anyone. The only requirement is that you have a pulse. And if you don't have a heart, they'll give you theirs.

You need a lesson on the birds and the bees?" Paul asks. "You put tab A into slot B." He makes a crude gesture with his fingers. "Or tab A into slot C." He grins. "Or Tab A into slot D. But some girls don't like that, so don't start there. You might even save that for a birthday or special occasion. Yours. Not hers.

I don't know." I flop back on the bed with a groan. "What do I do?"
"Him," Fin calls. "Do him. Then let him do you. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

You can try out my piercing after you fall in love with me, okay?"
"What?"
"I kind of need for you to love me, Peck." He's quiet but fierce. "You're not in love with me yet, are you?"
"Um…" I don't know how to answer him.
"It's okay. Don't rush it. I can wait.

I like bustling around Paul's kitchen. And I like it even more when he walks up behind me and wraps his arms around me while I'm standing at the stove. He pretends like he's going to try to steal a piece of chicken from the pasta, but he presses his lips to my shoulder and lingers, his hot breath blowing across my neck. I reach up and wrap my hand around his neck and bring him down so I can kiss him. Then he pops the chicken into his mouth and grins. "That's pretty good," he says, nodding. I roll my eyes. "Glad you like my chicken." "Oh, I wasn't talking about the chicken," he says, letting his eyes roam up and down my body.

My family means the world to me. Without them, I am nothing.

I'm not usually this emotional," I say. He shrugs. "All women say that. It usually precedes an episode of batshit craziness.

Life's not about the moments of pleasure you, yourself can experience. It's about pleasurable moments you share with someone else that really matter.

I want you to be my girlfriend."
"What does that mean?" …
He looks confused. "I'm not sure. But I think it's the same as being my friend, but I get to make you come.

You have to grab hold to love when it finds you," he says. "Sometimes it's work. And sometimes it's wonderful. But never take it for granted. Because when your life is over and you look back, it's the only fucking thing that ever mattered.

Suck every moment from life. We should all do more of that.

Tell me what you want."
"You," I say.
"Just you."
"You got me," he whispers against my lips.

He takes my hand in his and starts up the stairs. I kind of like holding hands with him. It's nice. He pushes me up the steps before him, and I turn around to say, "Do you know this is the first time I've ever walked up these steps of my own free will?" He turns me around, slaps me on the ass, and I hear him chuckle. It's more of a murmuring sound, but it's all Logan, and it warms my heart.

I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable asking for a kiss," I finally say. She snorts. "At least you asked." "Glad you like that because I might keep asking until I get one." She laughs as she shakes her head. "You promised Gonzo you'd only put the moves on me when he's around." "Let's go wake him up, then.

You see her as this broken little thing that needs you to take care of her. She doesn't need that. She might have been broken at one time, but she's not fucking broken now. She's put it all back together. She's made a life for herself, and you're trying to change it. It's kind of like she's built this fortress around herself, brick by fucking brick, and you might think a fortress is too much, but it's not. Do you know why?"
I can only sit and stare at him.
"Do you want to know why?" he asks.
I nod. My heart is in my fucking throat.
"Because she fucking lives there, Paul. It's home for her. It's safe and it's secure and it's hers. And she built it with her own two hands. So for you to swoop in and not only try to move her out of her fortress but also to tear it down, you're fucking up everything she's worked for.

So, you're the last one to fall," he says. He's serious all of a sudden. "I never really worried about you. I worried more about Pete, because I knew you had more ability to love than any of the rest of us."
"What makes you say that?"
"I don't know," he hedges. "You just wore your heart on your sleeve. You love, and you love well and true. That's one of your strengths.

I think I could have some very real feelings for you," I blurt out. I want to bite the words back as soon as I say them. "Good," she says, and she smiles as she rolls into my chest and wraps her arm around me. She buries her face in my shirt. I think she might be embarrassed. "I pour my heart out and all you can say is good?" I jostle her in my arms. "Mmm hmm," she hums. I feel her lips against my shirt, her breath warming the fabric. She laughs. "You can't really call that pouring your heart out, Pete." She mocks my tone, making her voice deep. "I think I might have some very real feelings for you." She laughs, and damn it all, it's such a pretty sound that she can't annoy me with it.

He picks up the remote and turns his show back on. "This is the best part." He points at the TV and grins. I lift my feet, but he grabs them and holds tight. "Stay a few minutes. I missed you when you were gone." He grins at me again. My heart clenches. His fingers start that slow sweep up and down my foot again. I turn my head so I can watch the TV with him. He talks to the TV while the cook-off is going on, like Emilio does when he's watching sports. It makes me laugh. He looks at me, his brows raised. "Are you laughing at me?" He grabs my foot tightly and holds it, his other hand holding my middle toe. He gives it a tug and I squeal. "Let me go!" He laughs and tugs my toe until it pops. It doesn't hurt. But it's damn aggravating. "That's what you get when you mess with me," he taunts. I

This girl will shred me. I already know she will. And I'm jumping in with everything I am anyway.

There are some girls you sleep with. And then there are other girls you want to sleep with so badly that you hurt, but you don't because they're special.

I wish I could get better for you, Faith," I say.
She shakes her head again and lays her flat hand upon my heart. I cover it with mine. "Get better for you, Daniel. Just for you.

Pete," I say. "Beg your pardon?" He glares at me. "My name is Pete," I say. "We should probably be on a first name basis if you're going to get intimate enough to chop my nuts off." I motion to his hatchet. He blows out a quick breath, grins, and shakes his head.

They were awfully close there by the fire," Mom says. "I was watching out the window." There's a quiet pause. "Did she let him touch her?" "No, but she touched him." He heaves a sigh. "She didn't even try to punch him in the throat." Fine. I can be a little aggressive. It all started after my attack with some self-defense classes. Then I realized I'm really good at martial arts. I can't help if it some people make me want to drop-kick them. "That's a start," Mom hums. I shake my head. I'm not starting anything. He's just a man that doesn't make me want to run in the other direction. That's all he is. He's nothing more than that. It's strange, because if I judged him based solely on his appearance, I'd be running away as fast as I could. "He's a good kid, it looks like," Dad says on a heavy sigh. "He made a stupid mistake." "He's kind of hot with all the tattoos," Mom says. She giggles, and I hear my dad growl. She shrieks, and I walk away. They don't need an audience for that part.