Undercover Bromance

There’s no force on Earth as strong as a woman who is good and fed up.

Fear is a powerful motivator, but so is love.

History was built by thousands of women who thought they were just housewives or just secretaries or just seamstresses until the day they got fed up and decided to fight back.

Who are we?” Mack said, standing all. “We’re the Bromance-Fucking-Book-Club.

See, that’s the problem these days. No one has a sense of humor anymore. Offended at every damn thing.” Mack shook his head. “Dude, some shit was always offensive.” “No one minded in my day.” “Women did. You just decided their opinions didn’t count.

You shouldn't have to care about a women to recognize that the sexuel degradation of all women is a problem. You should recognize that it's wrong simply because they're humans.

You use weakness as a weapon. You're so ashamed of your own mistakes in life, so afraid of your own fragility, that you accuse everyone else around you of being soft just for the crime of basic human frailty.

Because perfection is the opposite of authenticity, Mack.

Not everyone is willing or able to take on the world in a great big fight. It doesn't make them weak or wrong.

What are you doing?" Mack yelled. The Russian vaulted over the hood of a car and came to a stop on the sidewalk. "Because it's grand gesture," he said. Mack grinned and patted his shoulder. "And we always run for grand gesture.

We spend a lot of time talking about the unfairness of how our toxic musculine society forces us to be ashamed of embracing romance novels. Yet we buy our books in secret. It's time we practice what we preach.

The suffocating ways that modern women are controlled without their consent every single day.

Of course I can cook. I'm an adult. Feeding myself is part of the deal.

He crossed his arms. "wait. I thought you said I was going to fall madly in love with you. Now I don't care about you? Make up your mind." She winced. plot hole. "You think you care about me because you're the type to fall in love. But you don't really care about me." "so your fear isn't that I'll actually fall in love with you, just that I will think I'm in love with you." She looked sideways. "Yes." He gazed down at her, the corner of this mouth tilting in a reluctant smile. "Damn, Liv, you're complicated.

I don’t want a man. I don’t have time for a man. They’re needy, clingy, and never keep their promises.” Mack whistled. “Damn, girl. Who hurt you?” “The patriarchy,” she deadpanned.

You've read to many romance novels.' 'And you haven't read enough.

The side-eye she gave him carried enough attitude to fuel a sitcom.

I just want to wake up next to you,” he said quietly. “Is that all right with you?

I believe what Rosie is trying to say is that bad guys get away with it because the good guys look the other way.

At seven o'clock, Noah pulled up in front of Mack's house in a dirty white van that couldn't have been more obvious in its nondescript creepiness if he'd spray painted "Free Puppies" on the side.

Now get the hell out of my life and don’t come back.

I am judgmental. I’m so scared of my own weaknesses that I punish other people for theirs. I . . . I don’t make it easy for people to trust me. To love me.

But I knew that I couldn’t. Because you use weakness as a weapon. You’re so ashamed of your own mistakes in life, so afraid of your own fragility, that you accuse everyone else around you of being soft just for the crime of basic human frailty.

Sonia shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s something about him that makes my vagina want to send out a cease-and-desist email.” “Interesting visual.” Sonia pointed at her crotch. “The vag doesn’t lie.

You shouldn’t have to care about a woman to recognize that the sexual degradation of all women is a problem. You should recognize that it’s wrong simply because they’re humans.

It’s entirely crazy. We can’t go two minutes without fighting.” Or getting all hot and bothered and wanting to inconveniently suck face. Thea’s small smile spoke a thousand words. “I know.

How often did a group of hulking, good-looking men walk into a bookstore together? They were like an offensive line for the Literary League of Tennessee.

He was hard beneath her touch. She was weak beneath his.