“Don’t you ever get scared?” I ask.“Of what?” She says.“Of not being good enough.”“You mean at writing?” L’il asks.I nod. “What if I’m the only one who thinks I can do it and no one else does? What if I’m fooling myself-““Oh, Carrie.” She smiles. “Don’t you know that every writer feels that way? Fear is part of the job.”

“There are some things about myself I can’t explain to anyone. There are some things I don’t understand at all. I can’t tell what I think about things or what I’m after. I don’t know what my strengths are or what I’m supposed to do about them. But if I start thinking about these things in too much detail the whole thing gets scary. And if I get scared I can only think about myself. I become really self-centered, and without meaning to, I hurt people. So I’m not such a wonderful human being.”

“[Jenna] “I’m still scared to be me though,” she told him. “And I’m still a little scared of you.”For the first time he understood what she meant. “You know what? I scare myself. I’ve wanted to make love to you for so damn long. But getting this close, knowing you trust me? Christ, Jenn, I don’t just want to f#ck you. I want to possess you. Make you mine. Become a part of you. Make you a part of me.”

“Well, I know better what I don’t want. I don’t want somebody who’s always nagging me to be something I’m not. And I don’t want somebody who thinks she knows what’s best for me and who maneuvers around trying to get me to do things her way.” Kate frowned. “Nobody wants anyone like that. It’s like saying, ‘I don’t want someone who’ll poke me in the eye with a sharp stick.’ Forget what you don’t want. What do you want?”

“My day isn’t complete until I’m deep inside you. Your body wrapped around mine is the only way I feel whole. But don’t think it’s just sex and a physical response to you that I’m feeling. It’s not…it’s so much more. You’ve opened me in a way that leaves me bleeding, vulnerable. Being with you, making love to you, it only solidifies what I feel for you. I know that I’ve become one of those spouting, love-sick idiots, but what it all boils down to is three words that don’t mean nearly enough…I love you.”

“He said you were frigid?” She nodded. “Oh, honey, that word should be stricken from every dictionary in existence. There is no such thing. Just men who don’t know what they’re doing.” He leaned toward her, kissed her throat, and said, “I’m not one of them.”