Sometimes, when they're like this, everything else will disappear, but it's not quite clicking today. Still, it's better than anything else she's got, and she presses her palm to his cheek and drops down for a kiss.

Julie knew things had a tendency of not magically sorting themselves out just because you hoped they would.

If this is going to be the hardest thing she's ever done, she's damn well going to give it her best shot.

Street's t-shirt is in the kitchen sink, trapped under an empty ice cube tray, laying exactly where it fell while Tyra was licking salt off the crooked curve of his collarbone ten hours ago, while the sky was turning pink outside and Tim was laughing loud

Technically, they’ve done this before. At parties it can be okay to kiss another girl in Texas–if you’re drunk, and if your boyfriends are best friends, and if at least one of you is going to end up the right kind of wife. If you’re discreet.

“You like that color, Lorraine?” “I sure do, honey.” Mrs. Saracen peers down at her feet, wiggles her toes in Tyra’s grip. “Makes me feel feisty.”

Football spiraled through the air until it didn't, dropping right into Tim's hands and Jason howled, "Timmmyyy!" Pigskin cupped tight against his side, Jason's shout in his ears, and it just... It felt right.

“You’re a thing of beauty, Tyra Collette. A sight for sore eyes.” She can feel her eyes rolling. “Whatever.” “So, what’re you?” he slurs. “Stone cold bitch or just misunderstood?” Hell, at least he’s funny.