Tahereh Mafi

It’s always ‘Shut up, Kenji.’ ‘Go to sleep, Kenji.’ ‘No one wants to see you naked, Kenji.’ When I know for a fact that there are thousands of people who would love to see me naked

“Please.”

He says “Please don’t shoot me for this.”

And he kisses me.

He looks at me with so much emotion I nearly crack in half.

I’m shocked by my own lack of self-control, but I’m not sure I know how to contain these feelings. Adam makes me hungry for things I never knew I could have.

I’m going to show you exactly what choice I’ve made. I’m going to memorize every inch of your body with my lips.”

“Have you ever heard of Blue Streak?”
I blink at him. “That’s the name of a movie?”
“Romeo Must Die? Bad Boys? Rush Hour? Rush Hour 2? Rush Hour 3? Actually, Rush Hour 3 wasn’t that great. Tangled?”

“I love you, Ella,” I whisper. “I will love you for the rest of my life. My heart is yours. Please don’t ever give it back to me.”

Her eyes are big and bright and she’s staring at me like she’s just a girl and I’m just a guy and we’re not both just a pair of dumbasses headed directly for the sun.

And then, even though I know it’s going to piss him off, I say to Nazeera:
“Warner and J were engaged.”

To the world, she is formidable.
To me?
She is the world.