Lynn Painter

I have a nerd-level fascination with movie soundtracks.

that soap or deodorant?”

His big hand landed on the shifter, and his eyebrows crinkled when he looked over at me. “Pardon?”

“You smell really good, but it isn’t your usual scent.”

He didn’t put the car in drive but instead just looked at me. “My usual scent?”

“Don’t act like I’m weird. Your normal cologne is kind of, like, piney, but tonight you smell more… I don’t know… spicy.” The image of him shirtless and putting on deodorant popped into my head, and I cleared my throat, sending it away.

His voice was deep and kind of rumbly as he gave a throaty chuckle. “Holy shit, Liz Buxbaum knows my scent.”

It took losing her for me to realize that loving her wasn’t even a risk

“But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”

—10 Things I Hate About You

what if I’d been misreading every little thing between Wes and me to begin with?

That look on her face, what it said? I could relate

I felt a little bad for him because I could totally empathize. Wanting something but being unsure if you’re able to have it?
Or if it’s safe to have? Yeah, I got that.

I was getting worked up at the thought of going to prom with Wes. Someone needed to douse me with cold water, fast. Because suddenly it felt like it was all I’d ever wanted.

It just reminded me that I needed to get down to that card game before Alex ended up with my happy ending

The inside of the dark car felt intimate against the roaring storm, and I was wholly unsettled