“You big crybaby," I whispered into his ear. "Now you know why your mom warned you not to hit girls. Sometimes they hit back.”
“I told you, God is not coy. He's more likely to hit you across the forehead with a two-by-four than whisper in your ear”
“Sometimes, girls, you have to hit your lowest low just before you hit your highest high. It makes you appreciate the good things so much more.”
“He grinned at me and whispered, “I’m going to kiss you now. It’ll be a big one, so don’t hit me.”
“Hell, I can't hit a girl. Here, Claire. You hit her.”
“As I swung a third time, he grabbed my wrist. "That's enough hitting," he growled. "You don't exactly hit like a girl, you know.”