“Her mental list of items she’d need from her apartment was growing. There were things a girl just couldn’t live without, so Keegan would have to get them when he retrieved Muffin. “I need another purse. Can you get me my Prada knockoff? It’s in my closet on the shelf. Pink. It’s pink. I got it from a vendor in Manhattan. Jeez he was a tough negotiator, but it was worth the haggling. It’s soooo cute.”Keegan sighed, raspy and long. “Okay.”“Oh! And my nail polish. I have two new bottles in the bathroom under the sink in one of those cute organizer baskets, you know? Like the ones you get at Bed Bath and Beyond? God, I love those. Anyway, I need Retro Red and Winsome Wisteria.”Another sigh followed, and then a nod of consent.“My moisturizer. I never go anywhere, not even overnight, without my moisturizer. Not that I ever really go anywhere, but anyway I need it, or my skin will dehydrate and it could just be ugly. Top left side of my medicine cabinet.”“Er, okay.”“My shoes. I can’t be without shoes. Let’s see. I need my tennis shoes and my white sandals, because I don’t think there’s much hope for these, wouldn’t you say?” Marty looked up at him and saw impatience written all over his face. “And my laptop. I can’t check on my clients without my laptop, and they need me. Plus, there’s that no-good bitch Linda Fisher. I have to watch that she’s not stealing my accounts. Do you have all of that?”He gave her that stern look again. The one that made her insides skedaddle around even if it was meant in reproach. “I’m going too far, huh?”His smile was crooked. “Just a smidge.”

“Don’t leave. I want you to be with me.”“You’ll have your family.”I swallow before I say the words that will change this relationship forever. “You’re the one I need.”“But that would mean meeting your family.”It does, and I’m okay with that if it means she’s by my side. “I don’t care. I need you to be with me.”She smiles and cradles my face with her hands. “Of course. I’ll come if it’s what you want, but this is going to change everything.”“I know, but it’s what I want.”

“Do you promise to help me pack up my apartment and get all my stuff? I have a lot of stuff. A lot. Shoes and purses and clothes and nail polish. I have way more purses than you brought and at least a gatrillion dresses. I can't live without them-''I promise to haul your shit around.”

“And I need you, my love," he said. "I need you so much that I panic when I think that perhaps I will not be able to persuade you to come back with me to Enfield. I need you so much that I cannot quite contemplate the rest of my life if it must be lived without you. I need you so much that—Well, the words speak for themselves. I need you.""To look after Augusta?" she said. She dared not hear what he was surely saying. She dared not hope. "To look after Enfield? To provide you with an heir?""Yes," he said, and her heart sank like a stone to be squashed somewhere between her slippers and the parlor carpet."And to be my friend and my confidant and my comfort. And to be my lover.”

“Quadruple crap. Why couldn’t I control myself? Why did he have this effect on me? “Are you compelling me right now?”To my surprise, his smile held an edge of sadness. “That would give you a much needed excuse, but I am afraid I am not.”Curse my body for reacting to his. As long as I kept him out of my heart, I would be okay.“I think it a bit too late for that, my dear.”“You’re using old man speak again.” I made a face. “It’s creepy.”He chuckled. “I’ll try to remember that, but I haven’t been around humans much in the past hundred years. It’s hard to keep up with the changes in common dialect.”“Let’s keep on topic, Jett. You were going to teach me how to control my mind.”

“I’m over here in my unit, isolated and alone, eating my terrible tasting food, and I have to look over at that. That looks like the most fun I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and it’s B.S. - excuse my language. I’m just saying that I wash and dry; I’m like a single mother. Look, we all know home-ec is a joke—no offense—it’s just that everyone takes this class to get an A, and it’s bullshit—and I’m sorry. I’m not putting down your profession, but it’s just the way I feel. I don’t want to sit here, all by myself, cooking this shitty food—no offense—and I just think that I don’t need to cook tiramisu. When am I gonna need to cook tiramisu? Am I going to be a chef? No. There’s three weeks left of school, give me a fuckin’ break! I’m sorry for cursing.”