“What are we going to do, Ayden?" she whispered, glaring up at me. "I don't know," I confessed. "But how about we burn that bridge when we get there?" "I thought it was 'cross' that bridge?" I lightly poked her in the eye and she laughed. "No. We're burning bridges. Crossing is so overrated." I smiled and touched the corner of her eyes, captivated by the iridescent blues. "I think I like the sound of that," she whispered. "Yeah?" "Yeah.”
Book:Burning Bridges