9
" I like you.”
“I like you, too.”
“I’ve liked you since the morning you ran into me.”
I giggle and try to shove him away, but he uses the motion to pull us closer. “You have not,” I say.
“I have,” he whispers, and now his lips brush against my cheek. “I remember thinking, ‘Nice job, dickhead. Add another girl to the list of people who hate you.’”
“I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.”
“Now, that’s reassuring,” he says, but I can hear the smile in his voice. He inhales along my cheekbone, and sparks flare through my abdomen. “You should write for Hallmark.”
“All my future love letters will start with ‘To whom it may concern.’”
“Are you going to send me future love letters?”
I flush, and I’m sure he can see it. Feel it. "
― Brigid Kemmerer , Letters to the Lost (Letters to the Lost, #1)
12
" Wait!” Juliet pulls away from her father, and once again, she’s breathless and looking up at me. “Declan.”
I hold myself at a distance. The spell is broken. “Juliet.”
She closes that distance, though, and then does one better. She grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me forward. For half a second, my brain explodes because I think we’re going to have a movie moment and she’s going to kiss me. And then it’s going to be super awkward because of her father.
But no, she’s only pulling me close to whisper. Her breath is warm on my cheek, sweet and perfect.
“We were wrong,” she says. “You make your own path.”
Then she spins, grabs her father’s hand, and leaves me there in the middle of the cemetery. "
― Brigid Kemmerer , Letters to the Lost (Letters to the Lost, #1)
