“I’ve wanted you for so long, Abby. You’re all I want,” he breathed against my mouth.”

“You’re getting a tattoo? What is going on with you, Abby? Did you breathe toxic fumes in that fire?”

“The way I feel about you . . . it’s crazy.”“You got the crazy part right,” she snapped, pulling away from me.“I practiced this in my head the whole time we were on the bike, so just hear me out.”“Travis—”“I know we’re fucked-up, all right? 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 you 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’ve loved anyone or anything, ever. When you’re around, I don’t need booze or money or the fighting or the one-night stands . . . all I need is you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I dream about. You’re all I want.”

“You know why I want you? I didn’t know I was lost until you found me. I didn’t know what alone was until the first night I spent without you in my bed. You’re the one thing I’ve got right. You’re what I’ve been waiting for, Pigeon.”

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Pigeon.”“Just remember that when I take all of your money in the next poker game,” I said, pulling off my shirt.”

“I clinked my bottle against his. “To being the only girl a guy with no standards doesn’t want to sleep with.” I said, taking a swig. “Are you serious?” he asked, pulling the bottle from my mouth. When I didn’t recant, he leaned toward me. “First of all…I have standards. I’ve never been with an ugly woman. Ever. Second of all, I wanted to sleep with you. I thought about throwing you over my couch fifty different ways, but I haven’t because I don’t see you that way anymore. It’s not that I’m not attracted to you, I just think you’re better than that.” I couldn’t hold back the smug smile that crept across my face. “You think I’m too good for you.” He sneered at my second insult. “I can’t think of a single guy I know that’s good enough for you.”

“You made plenty, Abby. We just wanted to tide ourselves over until next year…unless you’d like to do this all over again at Christmas. You’re a Maddox, now. I expect you at every holiday, and not to cook.”