Pcu Quotes

My name's Marnie Baranuik, and I'm not usually a squirrel; I'm a recovering cookie addict, ex-forensic psychic, and head of the pre-ternatural biology department at the Boulder branch of Chapel's PCU. Mostly, I feed rat brains to zombie beetles and fail to solve Sudoku puzzles. Don't get me wrong, I've done dozens of super-serious stake-outs; this time, it was even for a real case.

Math and I do not see eye to eye at all. Let’s be honest: there’s literally no way I will ever use the quadratic equation or exponential functions at any point in my day to day life.

I’d held onto her fingers so tightly that day, as if my grip alone could keep her here, as if the force of my love could fight something as merciless as stage four cancer. It couldn’t. It never could. She took her last breath while I sat beside her, a part of my soul breaking with her as the monitors flatlined.

No concussion. No fractures, no internal bleeding. They said it was a bad hit, but you’re going to be okay." I nod slowly, processing. I should feel relieved, but the tightness in my chest doesn’t let up. Because there’s only one question on my mind. I shift slightly, my voice quieter. "Where's Madison?" Mom and Dad exchange a look, and that tells me everything I need to know. She’s not here. The knowledge slams into me like a second hit, sharp and brutal.

Because at the end of the day, the physical pain? That'll heal. Losing her? That won’t.

I force my voice to steady. "I just… I didn’t know if I could be what he needed. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I think I did anyway." Mr. Montgomery hums, like he’s processing. Then, softly—"Sometimes, the biggest risks are the ones worth taking. Sometimes that also means taking a step back and working on ourselves for a bit. You’ve had a rough go of it, Madison, I won’t lie to you. But you are a brilliant young lady. You are resilient, strong, smart, and my son has been head over heels for you since that boy first laid eyes on you.” I finally turn to look at him, and his expression is warm, understanding. "Sometimes, we have to take a step back and ask ourselves if the risk is worth the reward," he continues, "even with the potential heartache." With that, he pats my leg and heads back towards Jaxon’s room.

never thought I’d get this, never thought I’d get to call her mine again. But I do. And I’ll spend every single day making damn sure she never doubts it.

I shake my head, already knowing where this is going. “I’m not chasing her anymore.” Carter scoffs. “You never chased her, man. You showed up for her. You fought for her. That’s not the same thing.” I drop my bag onto the floor, dragging a hand down my face. “And where did that get me?” Carter doesn’t answer, because we both know where it got me—alone, standing on the sidelines of my own damn life, waiting for her to decide if I’m worth fighting for too. I let out a slow, controlled breath, shaking my head. “I love her, man. I do. But I can’t keep being the only one trying.” Carter studies me, his expression unreadable. “So that’s it?” I swallow hard, my throat tightening. “That’s up to her.” Carter doesn’t argue. He just nods like he understands. Because at the end of the day, I can’t make this decision for her. She has to make the move. And as much as it fucking kills me, I know—I know—I have to let her.

Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Carter yells from the truck, voice exasperated. “Would you two just kiss and make up already?

Since always, Mads. Since we were seven, and you told me my football uniform made me look like an overstuffed sausage.

dip my head, voice low, just for her. "I want more than just one night, Mads. I want you.

She hesitates for a moment, then walks up and takes her seat next to me. "Morning," I say, earning a sideways look from her. “I, uh, got you a coffee." “Jaxon…” she sighs. “You didn’t have to.” “I know, but I wanted to. Consider it a small peace offering.” I hand her the cup. “Peppermint mocha with an extra shot.” She looks over at me, her hazel eyes looking almost gold today, scanning my face for something she can’t seem to find.  "You remembered," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper.

I realize with startling clarity that I've been lying to myself, running from the truth that's been chasing me for years.  Jaxon’s feelings weren’t one sided.

I used to like blue, but she said it was her favorite, so now, I let her have it.

You're the reigning champion of the Irish exit. The minute things get even semi-real, you're gone faster than free beer at a frat party.

The sun starts to dip lower, turning the sky a deeper shade of gold, and I exhale softly, staring out at the waves. "It's so beautiful," I murmur, my voice quieter than before. Jaxon doesn't answer right away, but when he does, it’s soft, full of hesitation. "Yeah. Definitely the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." When I glance over at him, he's looking at me, not the sunset, and the intensity in his eyes steals my breath. Because I know he's not talking about the view in front of us.

Carter smirks. "Damn. You're down bad, huh?" I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah. Yeah, I am.

I blink up at him, surprised. "You remembered my order?" He shoots me a look, like I just asked if the sky was blue. "Of course I did.

I exhale sharply, spinning on my heel to face her. "Lyla, I can't do this with him." Her smirk fades slightly, but she leans back, tipping her head. "And why is that exactly?" I scoff, throwing my arms out. "Because he's Jaxon! He's my best friend. He's the only thing in my life that has never let me down, never left me, never—" My voice catches, my throat tightening. I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep going. "If I screw this up, if I hurt him, I lose him forever. I can't risk that." The truth is, it's not just him I'm afraid of losing. It's the safety he represents, the certainty. He’s one stable thing in my life that's remained constant while everything else crumbled around me. If we cross that line and it doesn't work out, I don't just lose a relationship—I lose my anchor, my foundation.

Let me be clear," he continues, his voice low and steady. "I'm not looking at other women. I'm not interested in other women. I haven't been for...a long time." There's something so raw, so honest in his expression, it steals my breath. "Since when?" I whisper, the words barely audible over the music. His lips quirk slightly, a hint of vulnerability beneath the confidence. "Since always, Mads. Since we were seven, and you told me my football uniform made me look like an overstuffed sausage.

As I step into the cool night air, one thought settles deep in my bones. She’s falling for me. She might not know it yet, but she is.

The song ends, leading into another more up-tempo tune, but we just stand there, my arms still wrapped around her while I grin like a fool. And I don't let her go, not when she's finally where she belongs.

She has to know what she's doing to me, but I don't think she really has the slightest clue.

I'd follow that girl anywhere.

Because I was scared. I'd convinced myself you were better off without me in your life, less likely to get hurt." "Madison." There's a gentle firmness in his voice that makes me look at him. "That was never true. Not for a single day." I blink back the sudden sting in my eyes. "You don't understand, Jax. I was a mess. I still am. There are days when I can barely get out of bed, when everything feels too much and not enough at the same time." The words tumble out faster now. "And you—you've always been so sure, so steady. You deserve someone who isn't...broken." Jaxon's expression changes, something fierce flashing in his eyes. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that." "What? That I'm broken? We both know⁠—" "No," he cuts me off, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. "You're not broken, Mads. You're human. You've been through things no one should have to go through, and you're still here. Still fighting. Still trying. That's not broken—that's brave." I shake my head, unable to accept his words. "I don't know how to do this, Jax. I don't know how to be what you deserve." His brows pull together, his lips parting like I just gutted him. Then, without hesitation, he shakes his head. "Mads, you're already what I want." I blink at him, my throat burning. "How can you be so sure?" I ask, the question I've been afraid to voice finally slipping out. "How do you know you won't wake up one day and realize this—me—is too much work? That I'm not worth it?" He's quiet for a moment, his thumb stroking my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. When he speaks, his voice is low, steady, certain. "Because I've known you since we were kids, Mads. I've seen you at your best and at your worst. I've watched you push people away when you're scared, and I've seen the way you love—fiercely, completely when you let yourself." He pauses, his gaze intensifying. "And not once, not for a single moment, have I ever thought you weren't worth everything." The sincerity in his voice makes my chest ache. "But what if I mess this up?" My voice cracks. "What if I run again?" Jaxon's lips curve into a soft smile. "Then I'll come find you, every time.

I’d give her anything. I’d be anything. If she asked me to let her go, I would—I'd walk away, tear myself apart piece by piece, if that’s what she needed.

Every touch is a memory resurrected—late nights on my parent’s roof, whispered secrets, dreams shared and promises made. Dreams that died the day she decided I wasn't worth staying for.

Like she knows I’m hers, even if she isn’t mine.

Madison isn't a distraction. She's not a mistake. She's not a reason to hesitate. She's the reason. For everything.

She might believe she's too broken to let someone in, but I know better. I've always known better. She isn't broken. She just needs someone who refuses to let her believe that lie.

Every second of that carefree joy hits me like a punch to the gut. Mostly, I miss the days when I was the reason for that smile.

No matter how much I try to tell myself I should be angry, that I should make her feel the ache of missing someone like she forced on me, I already know I won’t. Madison Blake is sitting on my front porch, and I still want her more than I want my next damn breath. But when her broken eyes meet mine, I get the feeling she didn’t come to stay.

I try to picture it, what my life is going to look like in six months. Option One: I go first round. I end up on the East Coast, with one of the teams that’s been after me since the season started. New city. New apartment. New everything. I wake up, go to practice, and grind every damn day to prove I belong there, that I deserve the spot I was given. I go home to an empty place. I eat dinner alone. I stare at my phone, wondering if she’s thought about me, wondering if she even cares where I ended up. Wondering if she’s still here, on campus, finishing her last semester, pretending we never happened. Option Two: The exact same thing—except Madison is there. Except she’s waiting for me after practice, curled up on my couch, stealing my hoodies like they belong to her. Except we’re cooking dinner together, laughing as she burns the garlic bread, sneaking kisses while the TV plays in the background. Except she’s in the crowd at my first game, wearing my number, her hands tucked into the sleeves of my oversized sweatshirt, proud of me. Mine. I blink hard, forcing my grip to loosen on the wheel. But that future? It doesn’t exist.

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To those who feel broken, lost, or unworthy of love—this book is for you. May you find healing in the pages and remember that you are worthy, whole, and loved, exactly as you are.

He smiles, and it's soft and sure and steady. "It means it matters, Mads.

So what was worse? The pain of trying, or the pain of never knowing?

I’m not overthinking,” she mutters. “I’m strategically panicking.

Come on, baby. What’s the worst that could happen?

But what if I mess this up?" My voice cracks. "What if I run again?" Jaxon's lips curve into a soft smile. "Then I'll come find you, every time.

If you don’t know, Madison. Then you have to let me go so I can let you go.