“Oh Jake," Brett said, "We could have had such a damned good time together."Ahead was a mounted policeman in khaki directing traffic. He raised his baton. The car slowed suddenly, pressing Brett against me.Yes," I said. "Isn't it pretty to think so?”

“I settled back. Brett moved close to me. We sat up close against each other. I put my arm around her and she rested against me comfortably. It was very hot and bright, and the houses looked sharply white. We turned out onto the Gran Via."Oh, Jake," Brett said, "We could have have such a damned good time together.""Yes," I said. "Isn't it pretty to think so.”

“The bulls are my best friends."I translated to Brett."You kill your friends?" she asked."Always," he said in English, and laughed. "So they don't kill me.”

“Yeah, Pudge is adorable / but you want incorrigible / so Jake is more endurable / 'cause he's so - damn. Damn. I almost had four rhymes on adorable. But all I could think of was unfloorable, which isn't even a word." - Takumi”

“It's fine.” Brett shrugged, suppressing the urge to say something like, “The drugs are okay, but the sex is lousy.” But she didn't want her suddenly nun-like sister to have a heart attack before Brett got a chance to pump her for information.”

“(Brett) “Never been to a football game either?” His voice lowered to a gravelly hush. “Well, like I said. We’ll make up for lost time.” He bent down and kissed her. “See you Friday?”Dazed, all she could contribute was, “Yeah, Friday…” before he turned and went back to his car.She walked inside, shut the door, leaned her back against it and concentrated on the rise and fall of her chest. It felt like he’d stolen her breath. And her heart. She was pretty sure he had taken a small piece of it with him.”