“The next thing I remembered was Reyes smiling down at me as the sun filtered into his apartment, his hair mussed, his lids hooded with the thick remnants of sleep. I stretched as those three little words that every girl longs to hear slipped from his mouth with effortless ease. As though they did every day. As though they didn’t mean the world to me.
With one corner of his mouth tipping sensually, he asked, “Want some coffee?”
And I fell.
I fell hard.”
― Darynda Jones, Sixth Grave on the Edge