Standing There Quotes

Not if we kill them - " I began, only to cut off when a sudden rushing noise filled the air. And Ray grabbed my gun and went ballistic on something on the wall over our heads.
"Die! Die! Die!" he screamed, emptying the clip and causing spent shells to rain down all around us. And okay, maybe I'd been wrong about the calm thing. Because he was just standing there, trembling and panting and staring
At the air-conditioning vent that he'd just shot the crap out of.
" - first." I took my smoking gun out of his limp fingers and patted him on the back. "See? That's the spirit. ~ Karen Chance

Summer is a Latvian chicken. We make foolish choices. We think we're young again. We run with outstretched arms toward an object of love and it pecks us and pecks us until we're standing there snot-nosed and teary in the middle of Astor Place and the sun sets fire to our Penguin shirts and all that is left to do is go to our air-conditioned homes and ponder the cruelty of our finest season. ~ Gary Shteyngart

I imagined him standing there looking at my shadow or over my shoulder and could only promise my soul this. That he was with someone more suitable now. ~ Abigail George

And maybe I was a little intense. But not as much as the princess who marched into that court in a very unprofessional pair of jeans and a T-shirt, looking like she had gone to hell and back
and was about to drag the rest of us back there with her, just like I kinda planned to do.
I knew it in a split second
and everybody else knew it too, even old Fabio
that we weren't just seeing a princess standing there in a pair of jeans and boots.
We were all getting our first glimpse of the next queen. ~ Beth Fantaskey

I've lost both parents in the last two years, so you pick up on that stuff. That's the most terrible thing about being an author - standing there at your mother's funeral, but you don't switch the author off. So your own innermost thoughts are grist for the mill. ~ Terry Pratchett

Vinyl, CDs or laptops, it doesn't matter - you should use whatever
you're comfortable with. If you're on the dancefloor and there's
good music coming out of the speakers, that should be enough. If
you're standing there storing your chin going: 'This would sound
better if it was on vinyl', yes it might do, but at the end of the
day, people want to go to a party. ~ John Digweed

Standing there, staring at the long shelves crammed with books, I felt myself relax and was suddenly at peace. ~ Helene Hanff

Aren't the clouds beautiful? They look like big balls of cotton ... I could just lie here all day, and watch them drift by ... If you use your imagination, you can see lots of things in the cloud formations ... What do you think you see, Linus?"
"Well, those clouds up there look like the map of the British Honduras on the Caribbean ... That cloud up there looks a little like the profile of Thomas Eakins, the famous painter and sculptor ... And that group of clouds over there gives me the impression of the stoning of Stephen ... I can see the apostle Paul standing there to one side ... "
"Uh huh ... That's very good ... What do you see in the clouds, Charlie Brown?"
"Well, I was going to say I saw a ducky and a horsie, but I changed my mind! ~ Charles M. Schulz

Jacob smiled from ear to ear when he shook the man's hand on stage. The man then handed him a trophy. "Tell the audience about your book."
My little brother confidently walked up to a microphone his height and beamed to the crowd. "I wrote about the person I love the most, my older brother, Noah. We don't live together so I wrote what I imagine he does when we're not together."
"And what is that?" prodded the stout man.
"He's a superhero who saves people in danger, because he saved me and my brother from dying in a fire a couple of years ago. Noah is better than Batman." The crowd chuckled.
"I love you, too, lil' bro." I couldn't help it. To see him standing there, still worshipping me like he did when he was five … it was too much.
Jacob's smile reached a whole new level of excitement. "Noah!" He pointed right to me. "That's Noah. That's my brother, Noah!" Ignoring his foster parents, Jacob flew off the stage and ran down the middle aisle.
Joe lowered his head and Carrie rubbed her eyes. Jacob raced into my arms and the crowd erupted into applause.
"I've missed you, Noah." Jacob's voice broke, bringing tears to my eyes. I couldn't cry. Not in front of Jacob and not in front of Mrs. Collins. I needed to be a man and stay strong.
"I've missed you, too, bro. I'm so proud of you." ~ Katie McGarry

I'd always thought it was gaudy, but standing there watching him beside the gold and glass shrine, I realised that his was a candlelight faith. It didn't work in the clear unforgiving light in London or Scandinavia, where even the dust in the cathedrals showed. But in the warm dimness and the shadows, what would have been tasteless at home made sense. The shrine looked like an oil painting made into real substance. So did he. England's was a reading religion, one it was difficult to understand at the bleak unimpressive first glance, one that needed books to explain itself. But his was images and images, the same as the old stages, in a place where not everyone could read and good light was expensive. ~ Natasha Pulley

How are you holding up?"
"I'm good.And still untouched," she added. "Are you alone in that bed?"
"Except for the six members of the all-girl Swedish volleyball team.Helga's got a hell of a spike.Aren't you going to ask what I'm wearing?"
"Black Speedos,sweat,and a big smile."
"How'd you guess?So,what are you wearing?"
Slowly,she ran a tongue around her teeth. "Oh,just this little..very little..white lace teddy."
"And stiletto heels."
"Naturally.With a pair of sheer hose.They have little pink roses around the tops. It matches the one I'm tucking between my breasts right now. I should add I've just gotten out of the tub.I'm still a little..wet."
"Jesus.You're too good at this.I'm hanging up."
Her response was a long, throaty laugh."I'm going to love driving the Jag.let me know when to expect the shipment."
When the phone clicked in her ear,she laughed again,turned, and found herself nearly face to face wth Kate. "how long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to be confused.Were you just having [hone sex with Josh? Our Josh?"
Carelessly,Margo brushed her hair behind her ear. "It was more foreplay really. ~ Nora Roberts

Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey

Simmer down, simmer down
They say we're too young now to amount to anything else
But look around
We work too damn hard for this just to give it up now
If you don't swim, you'll drown
But don't move, honey

You look so perfect standing there
In my American Apparel underwear
And I know now, that I'm so down
Your lipstick stain is a work of art
I got your name tattooed in an arrow heart
And I know now, that I'm so down (hey!)

Hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey

Let's get out, let's get out
'Cause this deadbeat town's only here just to keep us down
While I was out, I found myself alone just thinking
If I showed up with a plane ticket
And a shiny diamond ring with your name on it
Would you wanna run away too?
'Cause all I really want is you

You look so perfect standing there
In my American Apparel underwear
And I know now, that I'm so down
I made a mixtape straight out of '94
I've got your ripped skinny jeans lying on the floor
And I know now, that I'm so down

Hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey

You look so perfect standing there
In my American Apparel underwear
And ~ 5 Seconds Of Summer

You make it a production. Slam doors. Knock things over. Scream. But I just leave. Even if I'm still standing there, I leave. I am refusing you. I am denying you. I am an adjective that is quickly turning into a noun. ~ David Levithan

Standing there in the soddie door, she seemed two personalities. One argued bitterly that it was impossible for love to keep going when there was no hope for the future, suggested that there was no use trying to keep it going. The other said sternly that marriage was not the fulfillment of a passion, - marriage was the fulfillment of love. And love was sometimes pleasure and sometimes duty. ~ Bess Streeter Aldrich

And then, standing there in my Godzilla t-shirt, her blonde hair combed to the side, she says, "Supergirls stand together." I had to say the rest, "Supergirls stay together. ~ Mav Skye

But what sent his face clear down off his skull and broke him in two, though, was he said when he saw the Pam-shiny empty biscuit pan on top of the stove and the plastic rind of the peanut butter's safety-seal wrap on top of the wastebasket's tall pile. The little locket-picture in the back of his head swelled and became a sharp-focused scene of his wife and little girl and little unborn child eating what he now could see they must have eaten, last night and this morning, while he was out ingesting their groceries and rent. This was his cliff-edge, his personal intersection of choice, standing there loose-faced in the kitchen, running his finger around a shiny pan with not one little crumb of biscuit left in it. He sat down on the kitchen tile with his scary eyes shut tight but still seeing his little girl's face. They'd ate some charity peanut butter on biscuits washed down with tapwater and a grimace. ~ David Foster Wallace

I show elements of the set in my pictures because it's not real. When I see movies, I often love the 'making of' more than the movie itself. It's not so final. When you have a woman just standing there, it doesn't mean much. ~ Peter Lindbergh

The temple, in its standing there, first gives to things their look and to men their outlook on themselves. This view remains open as long as the work is a work, as long as the god has not fled from it. It is the same with the sculpture of the god, a votive offering of the victor in the athletic games. It is not a portrait whose purpose is to make it easier to realize how the god looks; rather, it is a work that lets the god himself be present and thus is the god himself. The same holds for the linguistic work. In the tragedy nothing is staged or displayed theatrically, but the battle of the new gods against the old is being fought. The linguistic work, originating in the speech of the people, does not refer to this battle; it transforms the people's saying so that now every living word fights the battle and puts up for decision what is holy and what unholy, what lofty and what flighty, what master and what slave. ~ Martin Heidegger

You are pathetic, Rache," Jenks said, and my eyes darted to the top of the rack and I saw him standing there, hands on his hips and frowning at me, his wings a silver blur. "Rachel and Trent, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. No wait, it was a hospital room, and he had his hands on your ass and you had your tongue down his throat. I can see why you might be confused. ~ Kim Harrison

He turns around, and when he sees me standing there, he looks scared. That's something useful. Because I'm not going to let him go. He may think he was lying when he said all those nice things to lure me home. But I know different. I know Nick can't lie like that. I know that as he recited those words, he realized the truth. Ping! Because you can't be as in love as we were and not have it invade your bone marrow. Our kind of love can go into remission, but it's always waiting to return. Like the world's sweetest cancer...
"We're a sick, fucking toxic Möbius strip, Amy. We weren't ourselves when we fell in love, and when we became ourselves – surprise! – we were poison. We complete each other in the nastiest, ugliest possible way. You don't really love me, Amy. You don't even like me. Divorce me. Divorce me, and let's try to be happy.'
'I won't divorce you, Nick. I won't. And I swear to you, if you try to leave, I will devote my life to making your life as awful as I can. And you know I can make it awful. ~ Gillian Flynn

The notion of the hero as outsider, as alien, is forget it, over, done with. It's not about being against society anymore. It's about standing there, holding something up. It's not pulling away. ~ Twyla Tharp

Like the magnolia tree,
She bends with the wind,
Trials and tribulation may weather her,
Yet, after the storm her beauty blooms,
See her standing there, like steel,
With her roots forever buried,
Deep in her Southern soil. ~ Nancy B. Brewer

Seeing him standing there in his boxers and hoodie with sticking-up hair, one sock pulled up to his calf, the other scrunched around his ankle, and his glasses just a tiny bit skew, my wildly beating heart falls in love with him all over again. ~ Rachel Morgan

It was my first-year Latin teacher in high school who made me who made me discover I'd fallen in love with it (grammar). It took Latin to thrust me into bona fide alliance with words in their true meaning. Learning Latin fed my love for words upon words in continuation and modification, and the beautiful, sober, accretion of a sentence. I could see the achieved sentence finally standing there, as real, intact, and built to stay as the Mississippi State Capitol at the top of my street. ~ Eudora Welty

No matter what. Wherever your mind wanders, it seems to turn up at the same Field of Dreams. It's the vision you wake up with in the morning, and it's the last thing you picture before you fall asleep. Everytime you think of it, the idea in your head seems to get more vivid, filled in with more detail: You not only want to win a gold medal at the Olympics, you not only can see yourself standing there on the podium, but you can also feel the goose bumps as your national anthem is played; the tears are in your eyes. (That's how real a dream can be and should be) ~ James C. Collins

Anything television trivia I'm good at. But when you're on your couch, you're really good at it, but when you're standing there, it's probably scary. ~ Sarah Silverman

It's all about standing there naked in front of the client. It's about building trust. And in the end, that means the client trusts them and takes care of them. ~ Patrick Lencioni

... she turned to him with her hands on her hips and said, "Take off your shoes and go stand in the corner."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I warned you not to push me, but you did. Now you're going to get the lesson you asked for."
She looked sexy as hell, standing there all stern and irritated. "Sophie, are you going to…discipline me? ~ Samanthe Beck

The eyes of all people are upon us. And all they see is a mash-up of naked prisoners and an American girl in fatigues standing there giving a thumbs-up. As I write this, the United States of America is still a city on a hill; and it's still shining - because we never turn off the lights in our torture prisons. That's how we carry out the sleep deprivation. ~ Sarah Vowell

I paid the taxi driver, got out with my suitcase, surveyed my surroundings, and just as I was turning to ask the driver something or get back into the taxi and return forthwith to Chillán and then to Santiago, it sped off without warning, as if the somewhat ominous solitude of the place had unleashed atavistic fears in the driver's mind. For a moment I too was afraid. I must have been a sorry sight standing there helplessly with my suitcase from the seminary, holding a copy of Farewell's Anthology in one hand. Some birds flew out from behind a clump of trees. They seemed to be screaming the name of that forsaken village, Querquén, but they also seemed to be enquiring who: quién, quién, quién. I said a hasty prayer and headed for a wooden bench, there to recover a composure more in keeping with what I was, or what at the time I considered myself to be. Our Lady, do not abandon your servant, I murmured, while the black birds, about twenty-five centimetres in length, cried quién, quién, quién. Our Lady of Lourdes, do not abandon your poor priest, I murmured, while other birds, about ten centimetres long, brown in colour, or brownish, rather, with white breasts, called out, but not as loudly, quién, quién, quién, Our Lady of Suffering, Our Lady of Insight, Our Lady of Poetry, do not leave your devoted subject at the mercy of the elements, I murmured, while several tiny birds, magenta, black, fuchsia, yellow and blue in colour, wailed quién, quién, quién, at which point a cold win ~ Roberto Bolano

Last night I had the dream again. Except it's not a dream I know because when it comes for me, I'm still awake.
There's my desk. The map on the wall. The Stuffed animals I don't play with anymore but don't want to hurt Dad's feelings by sticking in the closet I might be in bed. I might be just standing there, looking foe a missing sock. Then i'm gone.
it doesn't just show me somthing this time, it takes me from here to THERE> standing on the bank of a river of fire. A thousand wasps in my head. Fighting and dying inside my skull, their bodies piling up against the backs of me eyes. Stinging and stinging.
Dad's voice. Somewhere across the river. Calling my name. I've never heard him sound like that before. He's so frightened he can't hide it, even though he tries (he ALWAYS tries).
The dead boy floats by.
Facedown. So I wait for his head to pop up, show the holes where his eye used to be, say somthing with his blue lips. One of the terrible things it might make him do. But he just passes like a chunk of wood. I've never been here before, but I know it's real. The river is the line between this place and the Other Place. And I'm on the wrong side. There's a dark forest behind me but that's not what it is. I try to get to where Dad is. My toes touch the river and it sings with pain. Then there's arms pulling me back. Dragging me into the trees. They feel like a man's arms but it's not a man that sticks its fingers into my mouth. Nails that scratch the ~ Andrew Pyper

So Janie began to think of Death. Death, that strange being with the huge square toes who lived way in the West. The great one who lived in the straight house like a platform without sides to it, and without a roof. What need has Death for a cover, and what winds can blow against him? He stands in his high house that overlooks the world. Stands watchful and motionless all day with his sword drawn back, waiting for the messenger to bid him come. Been standing there before there was a where or a when or a then. She was liable to find a feather from his wings lying in her yard any day now. She was sad and afraid too. Poor Jody! He ought not to have to wrassle in there by himself. She sent Sam in to suggest a visit, but Jody said No. These medical doctors wuz all right with the Godly sick, but they didn't know a thing about a case like his. He'd be all right just as soon as the two-headed man found what had been buried against him. He wasn't going to die at all. That was what he thought. But Sam told her different, so she knew. And then if he hadn't the next morning she was bound to know, for people began to gather in the big yard under the palm and china-berry trees. People who would not have dared to foot the place before crept in and did not come to the house. Just squatted under the trees and waited. Rumor, that wingless bird, had shadowed over the town. ~ Zora Neale Hurston

Long black hair and deep clean blue eyes and skin pale white and lips blood red she's small and thin and worn and damaged. She is standing there.
What are you doing here?
I was taking a walk and I saw you and I followed you.
What do you want.
I want you to stop.
I breathe hard, stare hard, tense and coiled. There is still more tree for me to destroy I want that fucking tree. She smiles and she steps towards me, toward toward toward me, and she opens he r arms and I'm breathing hard staring hard tense and coiled she puts her arms around me with one hand not he back of my head and she pulls me into her arms and she holds me and she speaks.
It's okay.
I breathe hard, close my eyes, let myself be held.
It's okay.
Her voice calms me and her arms warm me and her smell lightens me and I can feel her heart beat and my heart slows and I stop shaking an the Fury melts into her safety an she holds me and she says.
Okay.
Okay.
Okay.
Something else comes and it makes me feel weak and scared and fragile and I don't want to be hurt and this feeling is the feeling I have when I know I can be hurt and hurt deeper and more terribly than anything physical and I always fight it and control it and stop it but her voice calms me and her arms warm me and her smell lightens me and I can feel her heart beat and if she let me go right now I would fall and the need and confusion and fear and regret and horror and shame and weakness and f ~ James Frey

And you'd be left there like a fucking dumpling. You'd be standing there. A fucking dumpling man I'm telling ye. ~ James Kelman

Our footsteps run, and I don't want them to end. I want to run and laugh and feel like this forever. I want to avoid any awkward moment when the realness of reality sticks its fork into our flesh, leaving us standing there, together. I want to stay here, in this moment, and never go to other places, where we don't know what to say or what to do. ~ Markus Zusak

Archibald MacLeish affirmed that 'A poem should be equal to / not true'. As a defiant statement of poetry's gift for telling truth but telling it slant, this is both cogent and corrective. Yet there are times when a deeper need enters, when we want the poem to be not only pleasurably right but compellingly wise, not only a surprising variation played upon the world, but a retuning of the world itself. We want the surprise to be transitive, like the impatient thump which unexpectedly restores the picture to the television set, or the electric shock which sets the fibrillating heart back to its proper rhythm. We want what the woman wanted in the prison queue in Leningrad, standing there blue with cold and whispering for fear, enduring the terror of Stalin's regime and asking the poet Anna Akhmatova if she could describe it all, if her art could be equal to it. ~ Seamus Heaney

Rach-Uh, my mom says they'll help me blend in better. She says the color would just draw attention to me."
Emma snorts. "Oh, she's definitely right. Blue eyes make you look so much more average. In fact, I almost didn't notice you standing there."
"That hurts my feelings, Emma." He grins.
She giggles.
He says, "I'd consider forgiving you-if you come with me to the beach."
She sighs. "I can't go with you, Galen."
He runs a hand through his hair. "Honestly, Emma, I don't know how much more rejection I can take," he blurts out. In fact, he doesn't remember ever being rejected, except by Emma. Of course, that could be due to the fact that he's a Royal. Or maybe it's because he doesn't spend a lot of time with his kind anyway, let alone the females. Actually, he doesn't spend a lot of time with anyone except Rachel. And Rachel would give him her beating heart if he asked for it.
"I'm sorry. It's not about you this time. Well, actually, it kind of is. My mom...well, she thinks we're dating." Her cheeks-and those lips-deepen to red.
"Dating?" What is dating again? He tries to remember what Rachel told him...She said it's easy to remember because it's almost the same as...what is the rhyme for it? And then he remembers. "It's easy to remember, because dating rhymes with mating, and they're almost the same," she'd said. He blinks at Emma. "You're mom thinks we're ma-Uh, dating?"
She nods biting her lip.
For reasons he can't explain, t ~ Anna Banks

Grinning, she hovered over him. Then, like a fist closing around a doorknob, her grin closed around him. With her lips, she turned the knob first one way and then the other: left, right, open, shut; left, right, open, shut. The knob did not squeak. In fact, Wiggs was unusually quiet.

Now, falling into rhythm, she sucked the knob from its axle, sucked the axle from its door, the door from its hinges. Out onto the lawn, tempo increasing, she sucked up the flagstone walk, the rosebushes, the petunia bed, the sprinkler, the driveway, and the small Japanese car parked in the driveway: oh, what a feeling! Toyota! Wiggs moaned as the neighborhood disappeared.

The towers of the city began to sway, and soon, the planet itself fell victim to the force, swelling at its equator, throbbing at its poles. It wobbled violently on its axis, once, twice, then exploded. The Big Bang theory, proven at last. Continuing to impersonate a black hole, she pulled in every drop and particle – she'd never had a man in such entirety – and it wasn't until the final spasm had subsided and the cosmos was at peace that she loosened her grip and, lips glistening like the Milky Way, looked up to see – the legs of a third party standing there. ~ Tom Robbins

Go on," Kell told him without taking his eyes from Lila. " Get some rest."

Hastra shifted. "I can't, sir," he said. "I'm to escort Miss Bard--"

"I'll take that charge," cut in Kell. Hastra bit his lip and retreated several steps.

Lila let her forehead come to rest against his, her face so close the features blurred. And yet, that fractured eye shone with frightening clarity.

"You never told me," he whispered.

"You never noticed," she answered. And then, "Alucard did."

The blow landed, and Kell started to pull away when Lila's eyelids fluttered and she swayed dangerously.

He braced her. "Come on," he said gently. "I have a room upstairs. Why don't we--"

A sleepy flicker of amusement. "Trying to get me into bed?"

Kell mustered a smile. "It's only fair. I've spent enough time in yours."

"If I remember correctly," she said, her voice dreamy with fatigue, "you were on top of the bed the entire time."

"And tied to it," observed Kell.

Her words were soft at the edges. "Those were the days..." she said, right before she fell forward. It happened so fast Kell could do nothing but throw his arms around her.

"Lila?" he asked, first gently, and then more urgently. "Lila?"

She murmured against his front, something about sharp knives and soft corners, but didn't rouse, and Kell shot a glance at Hastra, who was still standing there, looki ~ V.E. Schwab

I always feel I have to take a stand,
And there's always someone on hand
To hate me for standing there.
I always feel I have to open my mouth,
And every time I do, I offend someone, somewhere. ~ Ani DiFranco

Could you try not aiming so much?" he asked me, still standing there. "If you hit him when you aim, it'll just be luck." He was speaking, communicating, and yet not breaking the spell. I then broke it. Quite deliberately. "How can it be luck if I aim?" I said back to him, not loud (despite the italics) but with rather more irritation in my voice than I was actually feeling. He didn't say anything for a moment but simply stood balanced on the curb, looking at me, I knew imperfectly, with love. "Because it will be," he said. "You'll be glad if you hit his marble - Ira's marble - won't you? Won't you be glad? And if you're glad when you hit somebody's marble, then you sort of secretly didn't expect too much to do it. So there'd have to be some luck in it, there'd have to be slightly quite a lot of accident in it. ~ J.D. Salinger

My books standing there on the shelf do not know that I have written them. ~ Jorge Luis Borges

Now his response was merely to detach himself from personal contact. Looking back, she could not remember a conversation veering on the intimate from which he had not withdrawn immediately. He had had of course, in the past, more than enough of being devoured alive by the consuming interest of his admirers. A boy called Will Scott, back in Scotland. An Archer, they said, called Robin Stewart. Jerott, perhaps, long ago. Small wonder that Francis Crawford today took routine precautions to repel invaders.

And of course, that was it. Standing there, her eyes blank in the fog, Philippa saw plainly so much which had escaped her. The dismissals she had suffered; the exchanges he had broken off; the measures he took, when he remembered, to dampen the ardour of any impressionable fool who might dream of clinging to him.

Such as herself. She remembered the ringed, picturesque hands on which she had fixed her eyes, and their abrupt withdrawal. It was not only in the eyes of the world that her pursuit of Lymond was being put down to a blossoming schoolgirl devotion. Warily, Lymond himself had considered it time to start taking precautions. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

Yeah," he grount out. "I nailed her."
"Where?" Luc always wanted the dirty details.
"Stockroom. Pay up."
Luc snorted and reached for his wallet. "I really got taken on this one , didn't I?" He handed over four hundreds and five twenties.
"Yeah, well, you can have the last laugh once the Sem brothers catch up with me. Seems she's their sister."
"Dude." Luc streched out the word and then whistled, low and long. "Nice knowing you. So, will it at least have been worth it? Being gutted by Shade, I mean. Was she good ?"
His body heated as though remembering. And wanting again.
"Of course I was."
Fuck. Con spun around to find Sin standing there, hands on hips and fury in her expression. Like a kid caught stealing candy, he whipped the money behind his back. She looked at him as if he was an idiot and grabbed his arm, briging it around.
"It's not what you think," he said lamely, because it was exactly what she thought.
"Really? So that big asshole behind you didn't bet you five hundred bucks that you couldn't fuck me ?"
"Ah..."
"That's what I thought. You dick. How stupid do you think I am ? Your name really fits you , Con." She snatched the money from him, took two hundreds and three twenties, and thrust the remaining two hundred and forty dollars back into his hand. Then, smiling broadly, she punched him in the shoulder. "Next time you make a bet like that, don't cheat me out of my half. I owe you a ten."
She winked ~ Larissa Ione

I wanted to stay like that forever, letting the kiss linger. I was left standing there in awe as he gently pulled away and gave me a warm smile. "Let's go, the others will be wondering where we are," he said playfully. ~ Andrea Heltsley

I had to decide what I was going to do, and what I was going to be.
I was standing there, waiting for someone to do something , till I realised the person I was waiting for was myself. ~ Markus Zusak

I know I must look like a fish, standing there with my mouth gaping open, but I'm ~ Lauren Oliver

He's not dead," I spoke up. "The last we heard, he still lived."

"He did?" Simus asked, then let his eyes slide over to Keir. "Losing your touch?"

A cry of outrage filled the tent. I grabbed at the blanket, as Keir stood, sword in hand. Simus had two daggers that appeared from nowhere. I looked at the privy entrance, to see Marcus standing there, waving my underthings in his fist and shaking them in the air. "Where did the likes of these come from?"

I jumped up and grabbed for them, but that scarred little man dodged me. "Those are mine!" I made another attempt, darting around the bed. Simus roared out his laughter and Keir got out of the way.

Marcus danced away again. "The Warprize accepts nothing, except at the hand of the Warlord!" His face was bright red, the scarring a dull white against it.

"Give me those!" I went after him again and this time managed to wrestle the cloth from his hand. Flushed and breathless, I shoved them behind my back and faced down Marcus, toe to toe. "You have no business - "

"Nothing, except at the hand of the Warlord!" Marcus roared out, spittle flying from his mouth.

"You bragnect! I bought them with his coin!"

Marcus blinked. Apparently it was an effective curse in their language, since it seemed to leave him speechless. His recovery was quick. "Could have asked Hisself or I."

I rolled my eyes, just imagining that conversation. ~ Elizabeth Vaughan

We were getting closer and closer to that invisible line in the sand. The line that, when crossed, meant I'd no longer be Jamie Maysen's wife. I'd be some other man's girlfriend.
A part of me wanted to run away from that line. Another wanted to take a flying leap to the other side. As it was, I was just standing with my toes on its edge. Frozen.
Because I knew the man who'd pull me across was Cole.
… He was the man of the future, patiently waiting on the other side of the line. I could imagine him standing there, holding out his hand.
I wanted to take Cole's hand. ~ Devney Perry

I was always wanting to learn and be one of those actresses who can actually hold a conversation as opposed to standing there looking pretty. ~ Michelle Trachtenberg

Standing there on display was painful enough.
Now came the truly unfortunate task of socializing. ~ V.E Schwab

Whenever you're called on to make up your mind,
and you're hampered by not having any,
the best way to solve the dilemma, you'll find,
is simply by spinning a penny.
No - not so that chance shall decide the affair
while you're passively standing there moping;
but the moment the penny is up in the air,
you suddenly know what you're hoping. ~ Piet Hein

I love you, Meg. I want to
marry you. I want to sleep with you every night, make love with you, have kids. I want to fight together and
work together and - just be together. Now are you going to keep standing there, staring at me, or could
you put me out of my misery and say you still love me, at least a little? ~ Susan Elizabeth Phillips

It's not enough to hit the notes. There is no point in the singers just standing there and sounding wonderful if they're not connecting with the characters they are portraying. ~ Bruce Beresford

I told myself all sorts of lies, standing there at the bar, but I could not move. And this was partly because I knew that it did not really matter anymore; it did not even matter if I never spoke to Giovanni again; for they had become visible, as visible as the wafers on the shirt of the flaming princess, they stormed all over me, my awakening, my insistent possibilities. ~ James Baldwin

Holy fellatio! You are standing there licking him up with your eyes! Do you freaking hear the old seventies porn music playing in your head? ~ Christine Zolendz

Then Agnes came out the front door and down the steps with a tray of drinks, dark curls bouncing and red-rimmed glasses sliding down her nose again, wearing some kind of red dress with straps that tied on her shoulders and a skirt that whipped around her legs in the breeze, and Shane's thoughts jumped track until she led the other two women around the side of the house to the gazebo.
Agnes had damn good legs. And a great back. One pull on those ties- And she'd smiled at him, standing there in the morning sunlight. Might have been an invitation. Might not have been, too. Probably should make sure before he started untying things. ~ Jennifer Crusie

A chuckle comes from the back doors and Blake is standing there, arms crossed over his chest. "That was brutal, brah. You so deserved it."
With my head hanging, I manage to say, "Stay away or I'll kill you."
"You couldn't pay me to come near you right now."
I sigh and try to breathe. Blake laughs a bit more at my expense before leaving me alone in my misery. ~ Wendy Higgins

I got back to the vehicles and spotted Ashley Voss right away. She was standing there waiting with her rucksack, ready to go. I walked up to her, smiled, and said, "Hey, what's up? I'm Noah."
"Hi. I'm Ashley," she said without much emotion.
"Cool. Are you excited to come to our area?" I flashed her a grin.
After a brief pause she said, "Yeah, the medics can use a female."
She was acting like a professional and I was acting more like someone standing at a bar trying to buy her a drink. As if that couldn't be more awkward, right at that moment my radio squawked loudly, "Hey, can somebody get me that female medic's roster number? I need it before we head out." It was Jerry, ruining my game.
I leaned over and hit the button and said a little too proudly, "I've got the female medic with me now. I will get that for you."
And before I could ask her what it was, Jerry came back over the radio, "Galloway. You're with the female. Why am I not surprised?" Ashley gave me her roster number, and I sent it back to Jerry.
I turned to Ashley and said, "I'm not a player, just wanted to know more about you."
She didn't look that convinced. We got in the trucks and drove back. At the potato plant all the guys started sniffing this girl out like a bunch of hound dogs. One of the guys ran and grabbed her rucksack for her and carried it into the medic station, like he was a bellhop. ~ Noah Galloway

Is there super-glue on my floor? Is that why you're still standing there? ~ Whitney Gracia Williams

Lena." Alex's voice is stronger, more forceful now, and it finally stops me.
He turns so that we're face-to-face. At that moment my shoes skim off the sand
bottom, and I realize that the water is lapping up to my neck. The tide is coming
in fast. "Listen to me. I'm not who - I'm not who you think I am."
I have to fight to stand. All of a sudden the currents tug and pull at me. It's
always seemed this way. The tide goes out a slow drain, comes back in a rush.
"What do you mean?"
His eyes - shifting gold, amber, an animal's eyes - search my face, and
without knowing why, I'm scared again. "I was never cured," he says. For a
moment I close my eyes and imagine I've misheard him, imagine I've only
confused the shushing of the waves for his voice. But when I open my eyes he's
still standing there, staring at me, looking guilty and something else - sad,
maybe? - and I know I heard correctly. He says, "I never had the procedure."
"You mean it didn't work?" I say. My body is tingling, going numb, and I
realize then how cold it is. "You had the procedure and it didn't work? Like what
happened to my mom?"
"No, Lena. I - " He looks away, squinting, says under his breath, "I don't
know how to explain. ~ Lauren Oliver

Hey, babe, can I sit here?" Elle turned her head and saw Nero standing there, holding a tray.
　　Did he just really ask that, and did he just really call me 'babe'?
　　"Are you serious? Sit here?" Elle pointed to the chair beside her.
　　"Yes, I was talking directly to you, wasn't I?" Nero was definitely a smartass.
　　"No, you clearly weren't because my name isn't 'babe'. I bet you don't even know my name. So, no, you cannot sit here, Nero. ~ Sarah Brianne

He drives off into the night and I'm still standing there with my fingers to my lips. Peter Kavinsky just kissed me. ~ Jenny Han

It seems hard to remain a bachelor ... to model your appearance and behaviour on one or two bachelors remembered from your youth.
That is how it will be, only that in reality it will be you yourself standing there, today and later, with a body and a real head, and so with a brow too, to strike with your hand. ~ Franz Kafka

So I went in front of the judge, and I had my St. Jude prayer book in my pocket and my St. Jude medal. And I'm standing there and that judge said I was found guilty, so he sentenced me to what the law prescribed: one to 14 years. ~ Aaron Neville

Standing there in-between two disgusting Dumpsters in some crappy alley
with the whole world crumbling down around me, and hearing Alex say those
words, all the fear I have carried with me since I learned to sit, stand, breathe
since I was told that at the very heart of me was something wrong, something
rotten and diseased, something to be suppressed - since I was told that I was
always just a heartbeat away from being damaged - all of it vanishes at once.
That thing - the heart of hearts of me, the core of my core - stretches and unfurls
even further, soaring like a flag: making me feel stronger than I ever have before. ~ Lauren Oliver

As we're standing there I realize we're almost exactly the same height. We must look like the dark and light side of an Oreo cookie, and I think how just as easily it could have been the other way around. She could be blocking my path; I could be trying to slip around her into the dark. ~ Lauren Oliver

When surrounded by the ashes of all that I once cherished, despite my best efforts I can find no room to be thankful. But standing there amidst endless ash I must remember that although the ashes surround me, God surrounds the ashes. And once that realization settles upon me, I am what I thought I could never be ... I am thankful for ashes. ~ Craig D. Lounsbrough

And it occurred to me, standing there, just breathing with her, quiet settling around us, that those might be the three most beautiful words in the English language. We have time. ~ Ransom Riggs

Belittling others is no pastime for those convinced of their own standing. There is terror behind haughtiness. It takes a punishing impression of our own inferiority to leave others feeling that they aren't good enough for us. ~ Alain De Botton

Though the white liberal imagination likes to feel temporarily bad about black suffering, there really is no mode of empathy that can replicate the daily strain of knowing that as a black person you can be killed for simply being black: no hands in your pockets, no playing music, no sudden movements, no driving your car, no walking at night, no walking in the day, no turning onto this street, no entering this building, no standing your ground, no standing here, no standing there, no talking back, no playing with toy guns, no living while black. Eleven ~ Jesmyn Ward

Already liberals are trying to rewrite the history of the Cold War to remove Reagan from its core, to make him a doddering B-movie actor who happened to be standing there when the Soviet Union imploded. They have the media, the universities, the textbooks. We have ourselves. We are the witnesses. ~ Ann Coulter

Later that night, I sat in my room thinking of what I just went through. The four of us had burned the body in an old pit and covered the burned remains with a pile of leaves. Just standing there, watching the crackling fire burn and cripple the bones of this thing just reminded me of how real this all became. My mom was not too happy when I came home late and smelling like a crematorium. ~ Sara Massa

Go out with me tomorow night," Perry went on. "Let me prove to you that I'm the guy you want."
"I...I guess I coul go out tomorrow night," Miranda sounded shocked and a little swept off her feet.
Then, from the corner of her eyes. Kylie saw something move at the office window. When she looked back, she spotted Burnett and Holiday standing there high-fiving each other. No doubt Burnett was listening to the coversation and sharing the details with Holiday.
Perry nodded, stepped closer, and then pressed a quick kiss on Miranda's cheek. It had to be the most romantic thing Kylie had ever seen.
..."What?" Miranda asked. "You're happy my date [with Todd] wasn't exciting?"
"No," Kylie said. "Let's just say we're more excited about tomorrow night's date."
A bright smile lit up Miranda's face. "Me too. Can you believ Perry did that? I mean, he was so..."
"Romantic," Kylie said.
"Hot," Della added.
"Sweet," Miranda whispered. "I couldn't stop thinkibng about him all night."
And that was the best news Kylie had gotten all day. ~ C.C. Hunter

Is this true?" Suzette asked, sounding like a suspicious nanny. It was a tone Daniel had heard often as a child, though from his mother, not a nanny. They hadn't been able to afford a nanny. Oddly enough, he suddenly found himself imagining Suzette as that nonexistent nanny, though really the gown he pictured her in as that nanny was nothing a respectable nanny would wear and covered less than it revealed as she approached him in his mind with a naughty smile and a spanking paddle in hand.
"Spank me," he breathed on a sigh, and then muttered, "Better yet,let me spank you." A vision immediately rose in his mind of her turning and slowly pulling up her scandalously short, ankle-revealing skirt to present him with a view of her very fine bottom.
That vision died an abrupt death when Richard's voice intruded, soaked with melodrama as he said, "Guilt can lead a man to act like an ass and do the most foolish of things."
Daniel almost snorted at that. He was standing there in a dark room all but dancing with a dead man while having the most ridiculous sexual fantasies about Suzette. All this wile waiting to be able to slip out of the house undiscovered. Oh yes, guilt-and many other emotions-made a man do foolish things. ~ Lynsay Sands

How? How did you get Torin to Hex Hall?"
Dad blinked rapidly, and at first, I thought he was surprised by my question. Then I realized that, no, he was fighting tears. Seeing my father, who practically had a PhD in Stiff Upper Lip, on the verge of crying because he was so happy to see me made my own eyes sting. Then he cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders, and said, "It was exceedingly difficult."
I laughed through my tears. "I bet."
"It was Torin's idea," someone said behind me, and I turned to see Izzy standing there. Like my parents and her sister, she was dressed in jeans and a black jacket, although she also had a black cap pulled over her bright hair. "We had tons of old spell books, and after you and Cal disappeared, he started looking through them. Found a spell that would let him travel to a different mirror."
"Of course, the problem was finding your mirror," Aislinn said, coming out of the darkness.
"Aren't you afraid that he'll permanently peace out from his mirror and start hanging out in girls' locker rooms or something?"
Aislinn's eyes slid to Izzy. "Torin has his reasons for wanting to stay with us," she said, and even in the dim light, I saw red creepy up Izzy's cheeks. Maybe one day, I'd get to the bottom of whatever was going on there. Preferably once I was done getting to the bottom of the thousand other things on my agenda. ~ Rachel Hawkins

Fritz was standing there, four feet back from the door to the office, which was standing open, staring wide-eyed at me. When he saw I was looking at him he beckoned me to come, and the thought popped into my mind that, with guests present and Wolfe making an oration, that was precisely how Fritz would act if the house was on fire. ~ Rex Stout

Meredith bundled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders before ducking her head and scurrying past his brother. Travis knew he probably looked like a lovesick pup just standing there watching her go, but he didn't care. Crockett even came into the room and stared into the newly emptied hall alongside him, obviously trying to taunt him out of his stupor. "So when are you finally going to tell her that you're insanely in love with her?" Crockett asked, only a hint of teasing in his voice. Travis rubbed a hand over his whiskery jaw, reaching his fingers up to the place she had kissed. "Tonight. Definitely tonight. ~ Karen Witemeyer

Christians are notorious for acting like used car salesmen, treating non-Christians as if they're standing there holding a blank check and sporting a hard-on for unreliable vehicles. ~ Orlando Winters

Unless you see yourself standing there with the shrieking crowd, full of hostility and hatred for the holy and innocent Lamb of God, you don't really understand the nature and depth of your sin or the necessity of the cross. ~ C.J. Mahaney

Rodney held my cock in his right hand and ran it gently over his face. It was incredibly erotic, standing there under the showerhead as this massive man held me so softly. I swear, I almost lost it right there. My dick hurt, it was so hard. ~ Ellie Saxx

Loving him wasn't a surprise. What was, however, was the realization that ultimately, that was all that mattered between us. I'd been trying to figure out what it was that was holding me back from sex. It wasn't Jill. It wasn't some physical threshold I was afraid to cross. There was nothing, nothing except an anxiety my love had banished to the winds. And standing there, in that improbable location, the full force of how much I wanted him nearly knocked me over. A desire that was as much spiritual as physical burned through me, and I suddenly felt as though there was no way I could go a moment longer without having all of him. ~ Richelle Mead

I climbed the ditch, walked out into the middle of the prayer stones and stared across to the monks' island. If you stood there and thought you heard mass when it wasn't being sung, how would it be different to standing there when it was being sung? Would the mass in your head be any less real? ~ Jane Rogers

It was unbelievable. She was standing there, staring at him like he was a real rock star. ~ Kami Garcia

Edward still had the rifle up, sighted on Titus. Aikensen seemed frozen, standing there with the bloody knife. "Put it down, blondie, right now, or she's dead." "Edward." "Anita," he said. His voice sounded like it always did. We both knew he could drop Titus, but if the man's finger twitched while he died, I died, too. Choices. "Do it," I said. He pulled the trigger. Titus jerked back against the bars. Blood splattered over my face. A glob of something thicker than blood slid down my cheek. I breathed in shallow gasps. Titus slumped along the bars, gun still gripped in his hands. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

I see him standing there. Right in front of me. Smiling. He has taken his lenses off. His eyes are blue. Turquoise-blue. ~ Ritika Chhabra

Any true definition of preaching must say that that man is there to deliver the message of God, a message from God to those people. If you prefer the language of Paul, he is 'an ambassador for Christ'. That is what he is. He has been sent, he is a commissioned person, and he is standing there as the mouthpiece of God and of Christ to address these people. In other words he is not there merely to talk to them, he is not there to entertain them. He is there - and I want to emphasize this - to do something to those people; he is there to produce results of various kinds, he is there to influence people. He is not merely to influence a part of them; he is not only to influence their minds, not only their emotions, or merely to bring pressure to bear upon their wills and to induce them to some kind of activity. He is there to deal with the whole person; and his preaching is meant to affect the whole person at the very centre of life. Preaching should make such a difference to a man who is listening that he is never the same again. Preaching, in other words, is a transaction between the preacher and the listener. It does something for the soul of man, for the whole of the person, the entire man; it deals with him in a vital and radical manner.

I remember a remark made to me a few years back about some studies of mine on "The Sermon on the Mount." I had deliberately published them in sermonic form. There were many who advised me not to do that on the grounds that people n ~ D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones

This part of Warsaw has always been an extension of home for her, part of her shape, a responsive intimate part of her identity. So much she was attached to, so much that lent her footholding weight is now obliterated. It's as if one of the mirrors by which she recognises herself has ceased to reflect her. The teetering balancing act of unsupported walls makes her feel unsteady on her own legs. Buildings taken for granted are no longer standing. There are voids where previously history stood. Feathers like snowflakes rise up into the smoke infested air as if she is inside a macabre snow globe. ~ Glenn Haybittle

I'm sitting in front of the TV, watching Jerry Springer, and it makes me think of how many mad people there are in the world, and whether everyone is mad deep down, they just pretend they're not, and it's the people in asylums or on Jerry Springer who are the honest ones. I have a notebook and a chewed-up pen, and I'm trying to think of a topic for the Youth Issues speech. Mrs Thomas says she thinks I have a lot to say, but I don't. Nothing I can put words to anyway. I could talk about bullying, or alcoholism, but I don't think I could speak about that out loud, it's too real, and it'd be like I was standing up there naked. More than naked. It would be like my skin was all peeled off and I was just standing there with my heart all bloody and thumping in my rib cage for everyone to see. ~ Megan Jacobson

This man could sell boats to desert dwellers just by standing there, looking pretty. ~ Kristen Callihan

The back of my neck breaks out in a sweat, and I'm getting nervous. Why is he just standing there, staring at me? "What do you want?" I press, my tone curt.

He opens his mouth but then closes it swallowing.

"Pike, Jesus - "
"The day you left," he blurts out, and I stop.

I wait, listening as a look of fear crosses his eyes.

"The house was so empty," he continues. "Like a quiet that was never there before. I couldn't hear your footsteps upstairs or your hairdryer or anticipate you walking into a room. You were gone. Everything was…" he drops his eyes, "gone."

A ball lodges in my throat, and I feel tears threaten, but I tense my jaw, refusing to let it out.

"But I could still feel you," he whispers. "You were still everywhere. The container of cookies in the fridge, the backsplash you picked out, the way you put all my pictures back in the wrong spot after you dusted my bookshelves." He smiles to himself. "But I couldn't rearrange them, because you were the last to touch them, and I wanted everything the way you had it."

My chin trembles, and I fold my arms over my chest, hiding my balled fists under my arms.

He pauses and then goes on. "Nothing would ever go back to the way it was before you came into my house. I didn't want it to." He shakes his head. "I went to work, and I came home, and I stayed there every night and all weekend, every weekend, because that's where we were together. ~ Penelope Douglas, Birthday Girl

I could feel the blood draining from my face again as I saw him standing there. He was a hallucination. I had gone insane!
"That's very thoughtful of you," the nurse responded to David's comment.
"You see him too?" I sat agape. ~ Nely Cab

And so even today, if, in a large provincial town, or in a quarter of Paris which I do not know very well, a passer-by who is "putting me on the right road" shows me in the distance, as a point to aim at, some hospital belfry or convent steeple lifting the peak of its ecclesiastical cap at the corner of the street which I am to take, my memory need only find in it some dim resemblance to that dear and vanished outline, and the passer-by, should he turn round to make sure that I have not gone astray, may be amazed to see me standing there, oblivious of the walk that I had planned to take or the place where I was obliged to call, gazing at the steeple for hours on end, motionless, trying to remember, feeling deep within myself a tract of soil reclaimed from the waters of Lethe slowly drying until the buildings rise on it again; and then no doubt, and then more anxiously than when, just now, I asked him to direct me, I seek my way again, I turn a corner ... but ... the goal is in my heart ... ~ Marcel Proust

He left the room, unable to watch her standing there, naked with her underwear on her head, laughing at her own absurd madness. ~ Lisa Genova

then I must have dropped off. It wasn't much later that I awoke - the story of my life since my mate passed away. I get tired, wiped out, even, but can't seem to sleep more than a few hours at a stretch. It's such a weird time to be awake - noon. Spooky, really. There have been a few occasions when, tired of just standing there and hoping to fall back to sleep, I got up and flew around. The dining options were definitely interesting - lapdogs, ducklings, I even saw an iguana sunning himself on top of a Styrofoam cooler. But there was also a lot of traffic and noise. I never liked the world I saw during the day. Then I started hating the one I saw at night and wondered, What's left? What changed things, albeit slowly, was learning. It's like there's a hole where my life used to be, and I'm filling it with information - about potatoes. About hot water heaters. Anything will do. These leeches, though. For the first time in memory, I was unable to sleep not because I was anxious but because I was excited. To live in a damp crowded asshole and sing - if these guys don't know the secret to living, I don't know who does. ~ David Sedaris

Stay back,"I warned. "Stay away from him." They kept coming. "Stay back!" I yelled. They stopped. Except for one. "Rose," came a soft voice. "Drop the sword." My hands shook. I swallowed. "Get away from us." "Rose." The voice spoke again, a voice that my soul would have known anywhere. Hesitantly, I let myself finally become aware of my surroundings, let the details sink in. I let my eyes focus on the features of the man standing there. Dimitri's brown eyes, gentle and firm, looking down on me. "It's okay," he said. "Everything's going to be okay. You can let go of the sword." My hands shook even harder as I fought to hold on to the hilt. "I can't." The words hurt coming out. "I can't leave him alone. I have to protect him." " you have," said Dimitri. The sword fell out of my hands, landing with a clatter on the wooden floor. I followed, collapsing on all fours, anything to cry but unable to. Dimitri's arms wrapped around me as he helped me up. Voices swarmed around us, and one by one, I recognised people I knew and trusted. ~ Richelle Mead

There are places where years have no meaning, where only a hair's breadth of history separates the present from the past. Standing there on that bleak hillside, a young man in a place where other young men had died, it was possible to feel a connection to that past, a sense that in some place further back on the the stream of time these young men were still fighting, and still dying, that they would always be fighting this battle, in this place, over and over again, with ever the same end. ~ John Connolly

it gets a little tiresome when you're so high you go to the movies and look up at the marquee and think the starting times are the ticket prices. I mean, I remember standing there going, 'Ten-fifteen? What kind of price is ten dollars and fifteen cents?' It's a hassle."

"Yeah, one time I was putting gas in my car and thought the number of gallons was the price. I even got into an argument with the cashier. It was hilarious. ~ Tim Tharp

The lamplight was eerie, and, standing there motionless in our bathrobes, sleepy, with shadows flickering all around, I felt as though I had woken from one dream into an even more remote one, some bizarre wartime bomb shelter of the unconscious. ~ Donna Tartt

Calvin sits up, jerking his guitar to stand on one thigh. "Mr. Okai." He swallows. "I didn't realize you were standing there."

"My niece tells me your name is Calvin."

Calvin looks between the two of us, working this out. Robert, with his smooth dark skin and meticulously short hair. Me: pale and freckled with a chaotic, weedy bun on top of my head.

Robert reaches out a hand, and Calvin immediately takes it, standing. "Yes. Calvin McLoughlin."

This makes my uncle laugh, and the boom of it eases the line of Calvin's shoulders. "That's a pretty Irish name for someone with such a good tan."

"My mam is Greek," he explains, and then looks back and forth between me and Robert again, as if asking a question of his own.

Robert tilts his head to me, releasing Calvin's hand and saying in turn, "I married her uncle."

Calvin smiles, quietly saying, "Ah. ~ Christina Lauren