Whitney Barbetti Quotes

I was naked under his gaze. Skin was just that: skin. But to see your soul stripped, laid bare for the eyes of someone you barely knew-that was terrifying.

~ Whitney Barbetti

Love, the emotion that should elicit healing, was in fact the most painful emotion of them all. It crept in when you didn’t want it. Made itself at home, terrorizing your hormones with confusion. It made you more susceptible to pain, it weakened your resolve while simultaneously making you frantic with need. And it hurt. Not just mentally, but physically.

~ Whitney Barbetti

I don't want to merely exist, Parker. I want to live. I want to leave the world with that one sweet moment.

~ Whitney Barbetti

Words could bite. When I spoke to strangers, I wanted my words to have fangs.

~ Whitney Barbetti

Take this wine glass for example. If I had poured milk into it and told you it was wine, would you be upset when you took the first sip, expecting the bite of fermented grapes and getting milk instead?”“I like milk.”Everett fought a smile. “I do too. But I also like to know what’s coming. It all boils down to control.

~ Whitney Barbetti

I am. I’m rude because I don’t conform to society’s standards that white lies are inconsequential. I don’t believe in hiding behind words that aren’t truthful. I’m an impatient man. I don’t beat around the bush. If you ask me something, I won’t lie to you.

~ Whitney Barbetti

I so desperately wanted to be his gravity, to hold him on this earth and keep him from leaving me.

~ Whitney Barbetti

I don't love anything. - Parker I know. - Everett

~ Whitney Barbetti

This doesn’t have to be anything more than what we want, Andra. We don’t need to define this. You are warm, honest, beautiful, and full of wit. I appreciate how vibrant you are, and how you challenge me. I want to spend time with you simply because I enjoy being around you.” I heard his sigh. “I don’t want to suffocate you. No labels, no drama. Just fun. Maybe a kiss or two.”“Or three. Or four,” I added.

~ Whitney Barbetti

He sighed and moved his hands under water, linking with mine. “You are like a drug to me. Dangerous. Addicting. I can’t get enough of you.” He brought our hands above water and kissed one of my hands, linked with his. “But I want more, more than just a night, more than just a few touches. And I have a feeling that once we cross that line, you will run away.

~ Whitney Barbetti

That night I dreamt of the moment I found my mother’s body. My life was a series of befores and afters: before my mother’s death and after my mother’s death. Before I left the Monster and after I left the Monster. The first thing I remembered about my mother’s death was the minutes after. I’d always dreamt of it this way, remembering the after. It was during the after that I remembered the before.

~ Whitney Barbetti

He held me as if my bones were made of glass, as if my skin would tear beneath his lips if he applied too much pressure. When his lips pressed against the pulse at the base of my throat, I wondered if he could feel the power in my pulse, the power he was solely responsible for. As if in answer, his hand moved from my neck to my chest, resting over the space that contained my heart. There was something beautiful and intentional about that gesture, like he was acknowledging the mortal part of me that reacted so restlessly to his touch.

~ Whitney Barbetti

I plucked one plump black olive from the plate and put it in my mouth immediately before saying, “Well, I feel bad for you, then.”“Why’s that?”“Because I love antipasto.”“I guess I don’t understand why that’s a problem.”“Because,” I emphasized, cutting into a piece of salmon. “I don’t like to share.” I quickly slipped the smoked meat in my mouth before winking at him. His smile finally met his eyes again. “Good to know, because I’m not the sharing kind of guy either.” He winked back at me, but it was so blatantly comical that I couldn’t help the laugh that flew out of my mouth. “Something tells me you’re not talking about cured meats,” I said before slapping his hand away from my olives. “I knew you were smart.”I swallowed the olive I’d snatched from his hand and glared at him, while mouthing, “Mine.”“Funny, that’s what I was thinking, too,” he said, looking directly at me.

~ Whitney Barbetti

I'm not talking about the scars that separate your skin, Parker. I'm not blind, I can see those. I'm talking about the scars much deeper than that. The scars that exist within you. The ones you actually try to hide.

~ Whitney Barbetti