Jesteśmy społecznością, która kocha książki

It’s like if Ryan Gosling showed up at your door dressed like Noah from The Notebook, bearing flowers and whiskey. You’d be stupid not to take that bike for a ride.

See, when I met Cooper, something in me shifted on an elemental level, as if he changed my chemistry, rearranged me. I needed him, but not in the desperate way. Being with him was a universal truth. It was a quiet fact. Once I found him, the world made sense simply because he was in it and he loved me.

So I chose to read about it instead. It’s supremely satisfying when the good guys win and the bad guys lose. When the guy gets the girl and everyone lives happily ever after. Reading is the greatest escape. Where life is unfair, fiction can be perfect. The appeal is infinite, and the reason why I read at least three romance novels a week. If I can’t have it, I may as well imagine it.

Cheers to the end, because every story that ends begins another. Cheers to beginnings, that they may be full of hope and love. And cheers to you, my friends, for being a part of ours.

His eyes burned hot on mine, blazing and intense. I don’t think he even knew he was doing it — he just existed in a constant state of smolder.

Making you smile gives me life. Making you laugh gives me hope. Making you happy is all I want, other than to keep you.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t be that guy. Didn’t you know that talking to someone while they’re reading a book ups the likelihood of you getting stabbed by like four hundred percent?

I want you to know I’m serious about you, Lily.” “I believe you’re serious. Now kiss me.” He laughed. “Tomorrow. Can you wait until tomorrow?” “I have Spaghetti-O’s in the kitchen.” I was almost whining. “Can we make those and call it a dinner?” “Nope.” “Ugh, West.” I groaned. His.