“How did you do that?” I shrug. “I click my heels three times and say, ‘There’s no place like home.’” “Uh-huh. So … you think this is your home? My barn? His tone is playful, but the look he’s giving me is dead serious. A question. “Haven’t you guessed by now?” I say, my heart hammering. “My home is you.”

“So did you really mean all that stuff you said when I was a dead man?""Every word.""Could you say it again?" he asks. "My memory's a little fuzzy.""Which part?" The part where I said I wanted to stay with you forever?""Yeah," he murmurs, his face close to mine, his breath hot on my cheek."When I said that I love you?"He pulls back a little, searches my eyes with his. "Yes. Say it.""I love you."He takes a deep, happy breath. "I love you," he says back. "I love you, Clara."Then his gaze drops to my lips again, and he leans in, and the rest of the world simply goes away.”

“Fine.” He smirks at me. “Nice to meet you, Carrots,” he says, looking directly at my hair. “Oh, I mean Clara.”My face flames.“Same to you, Rusty,” I shoot back, but he’s already striding away.”

“It's been nice knowing you, Clara.'Huh? My brain still a bit shell-shocked.'Say a prayer for me, will you? He gives me a shaky grin. Because I'm pretty sure my parents are going to kill me”

“How's happiness class going, by the way?""Okay, so far.""Are you feeling happy?" he asks with the hint of a smirk.I shrug. "The professor says that happiness is wanting what you have."Christian makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. "I see. Happiness is wanting what you have. Well, there you go. So what's the problem, then?""What do you mean?""Why is the class only okay?""Oh." I bit my lip, then confess. "Every time I meditate, I start glowing.”

“I love you," he murmurs. "Can you feel that? You. Not some destiny I think I'm called to. You. I'm with you. My strength. My soul. My heart. Feel it.”

“Think about a good memory, she whispers in my mind. Remember a moment when you loved him. And just like that, I do. "What did the fish say when it hit a concrete wall?" he asked me. We're sitting on the bank of a stream and he's tying a fly onto my fishing rod, wearing a cowboy hat and red lumberjack-style flannel shirt over a gray tee. So adorable. "What?" I say, he grins. Unbelievable of how gorgeous he is. And that he's mine. He loves me and I love him. "Dam!" he says.”