8
" Maybe the answer is: Don’t be an asshole, think before you open your trap, take responsibility for your words. Meaning, apologize when you’re wrong and correct yourself moving forward—and don’t constantly look for reasons to be offended and police well-meaning people’s words. We want folks to talk to each other, right? Not just hang out with like-minded people all the time. Everyone is ignorant about something, and everyone is offended by something. If people can’t have a calm, respectful dialogue without being hurt by ignorance, or without offending with insensitivity, then what the hell are we supposed to do? Surround ourselves with robots who don’t challenge our ideas? "
― Penny Reid , Dating-ish (Knitting in the City, #6)
10
" Just because I’m a reporter doesn’t mean I don’t get to have an opinion about people.”
“And your opinion of me is?”
“Very low.”
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “Is it my hair?”
I flinched back, automatically checking out his hair. “No. There’s nothing wrong with your hair.”
“You don’t like Star Wars?” He gestured to his shirt. “You’re a Trekkie? You should know, I’m an equal opportunity space drama aficionado, whether it be BattleSTAR Galactica, STAR Trek, or STAR—”
“I get it, you like science fiction.”
“Ah ha!” He lifted his index finger between us.
“Ah ha, what?”
“You’re a fantasy reader, aren’t you? That’s what’s going on. What’s your favorite TV show? Buffy the Vampire Slayer, right?”
I lifted an eyebrow and crossed my arms, disliking that he’d guessed correctly. “What I read and watch isn’t the central issue.”
“Have you received your Hogwarts letter?” he asked, and his tone was so serious, I almost mistook it for a real question "
― Penny Reid , Dating-ish (Knitting in the City, #6)
11
" I’m gonna give you some unsolicited advice, okay?” Dan peered at me, as though making sure I knew to take his words seriously. “But it’s good advice, even though I’m tired as hell, so it might not make much sense.”
“Sure. Go for it.” Even in my muddled state, I couldn’t help but smile at my friend.
“You like that guy, you tell him flat out. You just lay what you want and everything out there. Don’t waste time not saying things that need to be said. He’ll always be in your mind, wrecking the possibility of things with other people, because your heart can’t move on until it knows for sure a door is closed.”
I managed a reassuring smile. “Thanks for the ad—”
“But then, if the door opens, make sure it’s the right door, not a different door. Because then you’ll be in the room, but it’s not the right room. And then you’re stuck in the room, you’ve committed to the room, and you’d be an asshole for trying a new door in the same house when you’re already in a room. And then your fucking heart won’t stop looking for a window. "
― Penny Reid , Dating-ish (Knitting in the City, #6)
16
" Marie, you are the sine to my cosine.”
My eyelashes fluttered and so did my heart, but I managed to tease, “Are you saying we’ll never be on the same wavelength?”
He moved his head to the side as though considering my words. “More like, we complement each other. In basic trigonometry terms, cosine is the sine of the complementary or co-angle.”
“I took trigonometry in high school. All I remember is pi r squared.”
“I would argue that pie are round, but whatever gives you a right angle.” He shrugged.
I laughed, even though the joke was painfully punny, and my hopes took his words as permission to start the countdown clock on their evil little space rocket. "
― Penny Reid , Dating-ish (Knitting in the City, #6)
20
" I reached into my bag and pulled out the macaroons, holding them between us. “Here. These are for you.”
He glanced at the white bakery box, his frown even more severe than before. He didn’t take the box. “What’s in there?”
The look of suspicion made me smile in spite of myself. “Cookies.”
“Where’d you get them?”
“I made them.”
His expression cleared and he snatched the box from my hands. “You did? What kind?”
“Macaroons.”
“Coconut!” He’d ripped open the box with impressive speed, his eyes widening with what looked like elation. “Come to me,” he said reverently to the cookies.
“I hate coconut,” Derek said conversationally, coming to stand next to me.
“She didn’t bring them for you, did she?” Matt said, his head doing an unexpected, sassy bobbing movement.
I rolled my lips between my teeth, breathing through my nose while my eyes bounced between the two men.
“Maybe she will, next time.” Derek grinned at me. “I like chocolate.”
Matt’s eyes cut to mine. “Are you making a mental note? You look like you’re making a mental note. Don’t. Don’t make a mental note. Don’t bring him cookies.”
“Gentlemen.” I pasted on my best professional smile. “I will be happy to bring cookies, to you both, but first I need to see what you’ve been working on.”
“Fine. "
― Penny Reid , Dating-ish (Knitting in the City, #6)
