“I think I'm losing control all over again. This is because I've registered two things above and beyond his hypnotic green eyes and rock star hot voice. 1. His perfectly square chin has one of those little divots dead center. 2. He's taller, and wider across the shoulders than I'd thought. My heart ramps into some sort of a private hailstorm. My list won't stop. 3. His hair is still shower damp. It's made up of little inky-black curls—an amazing amount of them. 4. The dumb eyes aren't simply green. They're like an exploded rainbow of greens and gold and browns. On closer inspection, he's…he's simply overall amazing and…I'll just say it again: HOLY. HOLY. WOW.”

“Brayden met my eyes. His were hazel, almost like Eddie’s but with a little green. Not as much green as Adrian’s, of course. No one’s eyes were that amazingly green.”

“He blinks. Touches the side of my face, near my eyes. My eyes that are blue now, not green. With oval irises."I'm still me," I say, because my greatest fear now is that he doesn't want a hybrid Amy.He cocks an eyebrow. "You think I care if your eyes are blue or green? I just care about you." His hand slips down my arm, and he wraps his pinky finger around mine."You came back to me," I say, my voice breaking over unshead tears of joy."I'll always come back to you," he tells me pulling me close.Always.”

“Oh my God, Abby,” he breathed. He rocked into me again, another hum emanating from his throat. “Holy shit, you feel amazing.”“Is it different?”He looked into my eyes. “It’s different with you, anyway, but,” he took in a deep breath and tensed again, closing his eyes for a moment, “I’m never going to be the same after this.”

“Sweet baby Jesus, Blue Eyes was…He was gorgeous in all the ways that made girls do stupid things. He was tall, a good head or two taller than me and broad at the shoulders, but tapered at the waist. An athlete’s body—like a swimmer’s. Wavy black hair toppled over his forehead, brushing matching eyebrows. Broad cheekbones and wide, expressive lips completed the package created for girls to drool over. And with those sapphire-colored eyes, holy moley…”

“I wrenched the door out of my way―ridiculously eager―and there he was, my personal miracle.Time had not made me immune to the perfection of his face, and I was sure that I would never take any aspect of him for granted. My eyes traced over his pale white features: the hard square of his jaw, the softer curve of his full lips―twisted up into a smile now, the straight line of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the smooth marble span of his forehead―partially obscured by a tangle of rain-darkened bronze hair . . .I saved his eyes for last, knowing that when I looked into them I was likely to lose my train of thought. They were wide, warm with liquid gold, and framed by a thick fringe of black lashes. Staring into his eyes always made me feel extraordinary―sort of like my bone were turning spongy. I was also a little lightheaded, but that could have been because I'd forgotten to keep breathing. Again.”