Six of Hearts (Hearts #1)

Also, I apologise to any woman whose parents were cruel enough to name her Dickina.

Bitch has more issues than Vogue.

For the ones whose childhood was stolen. No matter your age, it’s never too late to steal it back. Believe in the unbelievable, because this world we live in is magic.

Fuck.” He stares at me for a long time. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt.”
And those are the most beautiful words that have ever been said to me.

Has anyone ever told you that you use twenty words when five will do?

He leans his face in agonisingly slowly, then tells me in a gravelly, possessive, stomach-flipping voice, “Because you’re mine.

His eyes sparkle with some kind of hidden knowledge as he lets me pass, like beautiful people know the meaning of the universe and are amused by us ordinary folks who have to bumble along in the dark.

I did, Matilda. I might tell you that you’re mine, but you need to understand that it goes both ways. I belong to you, too.

If you want to sail your pretty little rowboat down the Nile and take in the scenery, then I'm not going to be the one to stop you.

I’ll be Burger King and you be McDonalds. I’ll have it my way and you’ll be lovin’ it,’ and you’d probably still score.

I’ll never hit a lady, but I’ll slap a bitch.

I’m starting to think that we don’t fall for looks or gender in the end. We fall for the person as a whole. We fall for their souls.

I once read that people who have imaginary friends never reach out to touch them. There’s some part of their brain that subconsciously knows it will break the spell. That’s what it feels like with Jay.

I put down my pencil and sigh. “Could you go eat that somewhere else? I swear, you must be the noisiest apple eater in the history of time.”
One shoulder goes up in a shrug. “I like it here. And I love eating apples.”
The way his voice lowers on the second sentence gives off the hint of an innuendo. It riles me up enough to respond harshly, “I’m sure you do, Jason. I’m sure you love eating all different sorts of apples.”
Jesus Christ, did I just say that? Kill me now.
“Actually, I’m loyal to just the one apple,” he counters.
The way his eyes dance and shine makes me want to laugh. I hate how he does this to me. Our conversation right now is verging on the ridiculous. Still, I don’t let it drop.
“You can’t be loyal to only one apple. Once it’s eaten it’s gone, and you need to go find a new one.”
“Oh, I could eat my apple over and over again without ever feeling the need to find a new one.”
“Maybe your apple doesn’t want to be eaten. Maybe your apple is tired of your apple-eating ways.”
He leans forward, one elbow resting on the table, his gaze growing even darker. “On the contrary, my apple loves to be eaten. In fact, my apple is a little cranky right now because she hasn’t been eaten in a while.”
The bloody cheek of him!

I really, really, really would be forever indebted to you if you just revealed how you did one trick. Just one, that’s all I’m asking for.” Jay wipes his mouth with a napkin, his lips forming a smirk. “When you say ‘forever indebted,’ just what are we talking about here?” Jessie makes a foreboding sound. “No way, sweetheart. You don’t want to do that. This fucker’s a slave driver when you owe him.” “Okay, well, maybe I won’t be forever in your debt. Perhaps I was getting a little carried away with myself. If you tell me one trick, I’ll owe you one thing in return. You can decide, but it has to be reasonable, like washing your car or something.” Jay leans forward and steeples his fingers in front of him. “Will you wash my car topless?” he asks huskily. My cheeks colour, and Jessie lets out a bark of a laugh. “Oh, now, that is a good idea.” “Okay, let me amend my offer. I will owe you, but it can’t be sexual.” “Topless isn’t sexual,” says Jay. “Topless is natural.” “I second that,” Jessie adds. “How about braless?” Jay goes on. God, these two. Why do I even bother? “Fine. I retract my offer,” I huff, sitting back in my seat and folding my arms.

I silently hand him back the newspaper and he takes it, his fingertips brushing mine. The contact makes my skin tingle. Stupid handsome bastard.

It just seems like all men pale in comparison to the illusionist under my roof.

It’s plainly obvious that Jay is about as homosexual as Gerard Butler in the movie 300.

I’ve never seen a more exquisite sight than you when you’re all turned on, darlin’. You know that?

Michelle: I read about him in the news last week. So hot. I refuse to believe anyone that good looking could be evil. Matilda: Eh, Justin Bieber? Michelle: Bieber doesn’t count. He’s more like a semi-pretty lesbian.

Note to self: Never try to out-trick a trickster.

People love shit that’s all obscure and mysterious.

So why not live with the magic? Be a kid again and believe in the fantastical. Life is more fun with a little smoke and mirrors.

The epic love I’ve always wanted was with me all along, and it’s nothing like what I imagined. It’s better, because it’s real. It’s not perfect or pretty. It’s full of mistakes and sacrifices, and sometimes even ugliness.

There’s a smile in his voice when he goes on, “What are you doing in there, baby?”
“Nothing,” I answer, a little too quickly.
“Okay, you keep on doing nothing. I’ll just sit here while you’re at it. This spot is surprisingly comfortable.

The way he’s looking at me makes me feel all funny and hot, so I hand him the cotton wool.
“There. You can finish yourself off,” I say, standing up.
I have to resist the urge to face palm when I see the size of his smile. Sometimes I think my brain might just be a gaping hole containing nothing but unconscious innuendo.

We all have thoughts that we would never, ever vocalise. And people who say they don’t are liars.

We both know that mystery is better than the truth. So why not live with the magic? Be a kid again and believe in the fantastical. Life is more fun with a little smoke and mirrors.

Wow. You’re good,” I breathe. “I know you took it – I just can’t figure out when or how.”
His smile grows wider as he chews on his food. Then his voice deepens as he replies, “You don’t know the half of how good I am.

You’re so full of yourself.”
“You wish you were full of myself,” he retorts.
I shiver and blush. “I can’t tell if that was the best comeback ever or the worst.