“I never...." she says between kisses, "got to kiss your hurt away..." Another kiss."when we were little..." her lips move to my forehead. "and I always wanted to." ~ Sophie”

“His hands skim my bare arms. “Just bounce a little when you walk,” he says, kissing my forehead, “and pretend you’re afraid of their guns” —another kiss between my eyebrows— “and act like the shrinking violet you could never be ”—a kiss on my cheek— “and you’ll be fine.”

“Can I tell you something?" He tilted his head, moving in closer still, so close that she could feel his breath against her cheek. "Do you want to know what my grandma used to say about kisses on the forehead?"He pressed his lips to her brow, holding the silk soft kiss for a long moment while Isobel stood in place, unable to bring herself to shove him away."She told me it’s the kind of kiss we save for the dead.”

“That is disgusting, and I will never kiss you again." "Yes, you will," he said, and proved by pressing his lips to hers. She wanted to squirm away, just to prove the point but God, she loved kissing him.”

“I brush her hair out of her eyes and run my finger along the edge of her face. "I love you, Lake.""Say it again," she says.I kiss her forehead and repeat what I said. "I love you, Lake.""One more time.""I." I kiss her lips. "And love." I kiss them again. "And you.""I love you, too.”

“I kiss her. I kiss her and kiss her. I try not to bite her lip. She tastes like vodkahoney.”