No one told me you can love someone and still be miserable. How is that possible?

I love you,” he says again, “and no other man will ever say those words and mean them the way I do.

What’s going to happen,” he breathes, “is that I’m going to carry you through this door. I’m going to draw out every single moment until you’re exhausted. And I’m going to move so slow that three months ago will feel like yesterday. And tomorrow will feel like today, and no one in this fucking universe will be able to say your name without saying mine.

Wait for me.” The words come out choked and pained. “I need you to wait for me.

Promises from Lo are like bars at 2 a.m.--empty.

Cheekbones that cut like ice and eyes like liquid scotch. Loren Hale is an alcoholic beverage and he doesn't even know it.