“I'm gonna fuck up. I'm gonna fuck up a lot, Pidge, but you have to forgive me.”

“I'm gonna fuck it up, Pigeon. You're gonna get sick of my shit."I laughed. "I'm sick of your shit now. I still married you.”

“I’ve got less than twenty-four hours with you, Pidge. I’m gonna kiss you. I’m gonna kiss you a lot today. All day. Every chance I get. If you want me to stop, just say the word, but until you do, I’m going make every second of my last day with you count.”

“Travis tapped my apple with his fork. “You gonna eat that, Pidge?”“No, you can have it, Baby.”Heat consumed my ears when America’s head jerked to look at me.“It just came out,” I said, shaking my head. I peeked up at Travis, whose expression was a mixture of amusement and adoration.”

“Do your worst, Pidge. I’m tired of your shit.”I released his skin and jerked my arms, struggling against his grip. “My shit? Let me out of this fucking car!”He pulled my wrists close to his face. “I love you, dammit! You’re not going anywhere until you sober up and we figure this out!”

“Who can tell me which president had a cross-eyed wife with a bad case of the uglies?" Chaney asked. "Make sure you get that down," Travis whispered. "I'm gonna need to know that for job interviews.”

“I know we're fucked up, alright? I'm impulsive, and hot tempered, and you get under my skin like no one else. You act like you hate me one minute, and then need me the next. I never get anything right, and I don't deserve you...but I fucking love you, Abby. I love you more than I loved anyone or anything ever. When you're around, I don't need booze, or money, or the fighting, or the one-night stands...”