“It’s so real.""Most dreams are. It isn't until you wake up that you see all the plot holes.”

“It’s brown.” So maybe I had the teeniest, tiniest, most infinitesimal amount of auburn in my hair. I was still a brunette. “It’s the lighting,” I said.“Yeah, maybe it’s the lightbulbs.” His smile brought up both sides of his mouth, and a dimple surfaced.”

“Are you gloating inside? That's what this is about, isn't it? Getting me to trust you so you could blow it up in my face!" [...]"I get that you're angry—," said Patch."I am ripped apart!" I shouted.”

“Love the hair. Love when it’s out of control. It’s like seeing a side of you that needs to come out more often.”

“Kiss me in a way I'll never forget. Kiss me in a way that will stay with me until see you again.”

“I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep beside you each night,” Patch told me gravely. “I want to take care of you, cherish you, and love you in a way no other man ever could. I want to spoil you — every kiss, every touch, every thought, they all belong to you. I’ll make you happy. Every day, I’ll make you happy.”

“You want me to come clean, I will. I'll tell you everything. Who I am and what I've done. Every last detail. I'll dig it all up, but you have to ask. You have to want it. You can see who I was, or you can see who I am now. I'm not good," he said, piercing me with eyes that absorbed all light but reflected none, "but I was worse.”