Himym Barney Quotes Novels & Stories

“What should we do this weekend?” Rule one—keep smiling and upbeat. Rule two—always talk about the future, no matter how close. He swallowed. “I was thinking we could go for a drive. Maybe get away.” “That would be fun.” I smiled, trying not to let on I knew the double meaning in his words. The kiss as we separated for our own offices held an edge as they all did of late—passion—like it would be the last. “I’ll see you later, Honeybear. Love you.”

he smiled and increased the volume of the song Geez! I think I'm gonna keep crying till we get home Oh my! Home? *** "Oh my Gosh!''Barry screamed like a girl as we entered the sitting room. I knew my preparations for him were greater than Jenny's. But I didn't expect him to shout. I was not even in the mood to hear his voice "All this for me?"he screamed again as I closed the door behind me. He looked around with a smile on his lips. I move to go upstairs

Murder Barbie: 7PM, my place the Penthouse. Then another message comes in with a red heart emoji close to it. Murder Barbie: Wear something pretty. My eyes widen slightly at the screen at the sheer audacity as I laugh not even caring that my coffee has gone cold while I giggle and glee over my texts with him. ME: You’re unbelievably bossy. Murder Barbie: You like it! Besides am sure you’re already thinking about what to wear. unfortunately he’s absolutely right.I stare down at my oversized shirt and messy curls in betrayal.

Veronica chimed in sarcastically,"Girls. Girls. We must start living and stop acting so insecure. We are twenty something for fuck's sake and we live like a bunch of old retired grannies" She stopped only to continue, "We are sexy, we are young and we are all going to have fun tonight. Now, are you with me or are you with me?" It's not like we had a choice when she put it that way which is why in the next few minutes, we stumbled to the thirty seater counter where two bar tenders mixed drinks like they had been doing that all their lives. "What can I get you?" The Blondie bartender asked Henley and judging from the gushing smile, the way he eyed her up and down, he definitely wanted to flirt

“First of all, you are not fat. Second of all, you never know about the whole social media thing. I bet there are all sorts of people who will want to watch you.” I cringed, thinking for a second about the kinds of perverts Barnett might be thinking about. Peter immediately came to mind. I almost gagged at the thought of him watching my ass while I stretched. Barnett rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I don’t mean that kind of person,” he said. “I mean people like you—divorced, looking to get healthy, a little more down on themselves than they should be.” He tried to meet my eyes, but I refused to return his gaze.

Don't do it, Kassy. Don't hurt yourself. Too late…..The question was already out. Barbara sipped her wine, then nods. "Of Course, damn why won't I." My fingers tightened around my glass. I smiled. At least I think I smiled. It probably looked more painful than happy. My lips were already trembling. The next question sat on the tip of my tongue. Why was I doing this to myself? Why was I digging my own grave? Jenny was still staring at me.

My head was beginning to ache, the pounding sound of the loud music and the fools besides me weren't helping. “She's staying with Evans.” “Oh? I see…there's no point sleeping with an unknown pussy that may be tainted when you can use the one that you trust right?” “Shut up Albert. Don't try to piss me off.” “What's wrong with trying out something new?” Barry asked. “Not all of us are professional sluts like you are Barry” Albert replied, his words had a little slur. He succeeded in making me smile and Barry laughed. “And you? What do you do to relieve the pent-up sexual energy?” Barry emptied his glass.

I just needed anything to forget—the diagnosis, my failed marriage… everything. I downed the shot in one gulp, wincing as the alcohol burned my throat. “Men are scum,” I muttered, slamming my fist on the bar. I was already too tired of crying. The bartender chuckled, “Ah, I see. Well, I can’t argue with that. We can be a bit of a handful sometimes.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “But not all of us are bad, I promise. Some of us are even worth a second chance.”

“Confidence keeps us alive.” “And sarcasm keeps me sane.” “Then we make a good team.” Barbie snorted. “You make a noisy team. But fine, I’ll guide you through the forest. Just don’t expect miracles.” “Barbie,” I said, grinning, “you are the miracle.” She preened, wings fluttering. “I know.”

Emotion clogged in my throat, remembering Dad how he used to love this song. “Hiya, what can I get for you, miss?” the cute bartender asked. His accent was attractive. What gave me the nosedive was he reminded me of Forrest. “Whatever you have there. Thank you.” The noise from the corner had my gaze tipped in their direction. They were many guys around my age, all fit and looking rich. “Those are our pride.” “Who are they?” I asked the bartender. I noticed the guy wearing a white shirt tipped his glass. I turned to my left, and I was alone. I had to raise my drink to him in return.