Quotes About Awkwardness

Oh God. She probably thinks we were off doing—you know—romantic type, um, things—

Where are you guys getting all of this?" I asked. "What does it matter if I - oh come on." We'd reached the lobby and found Eddie and Micah sitting on a bench together. They at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "Not you guys too," I said. "I was just here to see Jill," said Micah unconvincingly. "And I was here to, um..." Eddie faltered, and I held up a hand to stop him.

Wow. You look…really nice today. Did you do something different?" Only a thirty-four-year-old virgin, I thought.

She rearranged her legs again. If she kept doing that, it was possible that I might begin to bugle like a stallion. Which would not be dignified. Beth

Scott felt uncomfortable, but managed a nod. Most of what Hess told the chief was lies. "Thank you." "I'll

Human beings are immensely suggestible; their moods will easily spread to the people around them. In fact seduction depends on mimesis, on the conscious creation of a mood or feeling that is then reproduced by the other person. But hesitation and awkwardness are also contagious, and are deadly to seduction.

She wiggled until her nose and mouth found a pocket of air. After a few deep breaths, she realized her precious pocket of air was the crevice between his legs. Wonderful. She was doing heavy breathing on his crotch.

Good grief, he'd fallen into his death sleep with a hard-on. Was it possible for a stiff to be that stiff?

Her cheeks flamed with heat as her gaze shifted downward with a look of horror. There's something hard in your breeches, and I think it's moving!

What are you doing now? Al questioned Seeing if your circumcision is gone? It is. My expression went blank, and Trent hesitated. He looked at me, and I put a hand to my mouth, face flaming. Oh. My. God. Trent. I'm sorry Um Trent said, clearly at a loss. Call me tomorrow, Al said seriously, I've got a curse that will take care of that. Unless you like the snake in a turtleneck look

Sure am glad I'm not royalty, I muttered. I wouldn't want to have to bump uglies with someone I can't stand. On a regular basis. And no one else. Ow! I exclaimed, trying to yank my fingers from Trent but finding them caught. Then I colored, realizing what I'd said. Oh… sorry, I stammered, meaning it. That was insensitive. Trent's frown turned into a sly smirk. Bump uglies? he said, eyes on the table behind me. You are a font of gutter slang, Rachel. We must do this again.

Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt some sort of dominance foreplay?

Past him was Trent, a tired look on his face. Holding my borrowed shawl close, I watched Jonathan as I slid out. "Why, thank you, Jon," I said brightly, "you freaking bastard." Trent ducked his head, hiding a smile.

Tink's little pink dildo, Rache! Haven't you gotten rid of those condoms yet? They got a shelf life, you know.

When I turned eighteen, she sent Walker a card that joked 'He's finally legal!' Walker was completely horrified, but Mom's sense of humor often depended on someone else's horror.

Let's just put it this way: I don't think I'll be able to twerk my way out of this.— —Don't know what twerk means, Melanthe.—

A sheer displeasure to meet you, Munro MacRieve.

Then we were quiet. Quiet isn't easy. Especially with virtual strangers. They say that nature hates a vacuum, and so it's kind of natural to want to fill up a human silence with words—any kind of lame words. But there was such a feeling of space around us that my first self-conscious word died long before I ever felt it on my tongue.

Honestly. There are days when I only open my mouth to change feet.

You must be jesting. What happened down there is one of the most mortifying moments of my life. Why on earth would I point it out to you if you'd forgotten all about it?" His eyes widened. "Forgotten about it? Forgotten about it? Sweetheart, I have replayed those moments in my mind a hundred times, at least.

She'd stared at the darkened ceiling half the night wondering about what Murphy had said. Turning the comment every which way. And every way she turned it, she ended up with the same view: Murphy had feelings for her. She couldn't believe he might love her—though his answer to Dad's question suggested otherwise. And she definitely wasn't about to address the subject with him. Last night had been awkward enough.

Would you like to dance?" She arched a delicate brow. "With you?" He reached for his drink. "I'll take that as a no." "Feel free to ask someone else, Murphy." He wasn't leaving her now, even if he wanted to dance with someone else—and he didn't.

Abigail's foot caught on something and she stumbled, pitching forward. Dylan, who was closer, reached out and caught her. Abigail straightened, her eyes averted. "Sorry," she said, pulling away from him. "You can fall into my arms anytime you like." Dylan winked.

Have I come at a bad time?" she managed to say without guffawing. I believe I said something on the order of "argh," and compounded my embarrassment by trying to cover myself with the sweatpants I'd picked up off the floor.