“Because you are the one. You are better than me in some things, and I am better than you in others...I don’t mind being a bit like you. I hope you don’t mind being a bit like me.”

“I never wanted to marry anyone before,” he said. “When two people marry, they surrender a small part of themselves. They become more like each other. I never met a woman who was better than me at things I take pride in, and I never wanted to be like them. I always knew that whoever I was with was temporary. There was always a new woman around the corner. I’ve seen marriages shatter. Twice. My mother left, then Richard’s wife. It almost broke my brother.”“So how do I know that you won’t move on and leave me broken?”“Because you are the one. You are better than me in some things, and I am better than you in others.” He drew her into his arms. “I don’t mind being a bit like you. I hope you don’t mind being a bit like me.”

“Come back to me. Don’t leave me all alone. Don’t die on me, you stupid sonovabitch. You goddamn fuckingidiot. I told you to stay out of the damn fight! Why the hell don’t you ever listen? I fucking hate you. I hate you,you hear me? Don’t you dare die on me, because I need to kill you with my bare hands.”

“Why the hell would anyone be eating at the Grease Trap? I’ve seen flies die from buzzing by that place.” Andrea crossed her arms. “Oh, I don’t know, probably because your career just ended and you are depressed and don’t feel like breathing, let alone going out, but your body still needs food and that’s the closest place to your apartment and they don’t mind if you bring a giant dog with you.” “What, you couldn’t find a Dumpster that was closer?” Andrea glared at me. “What are you implying?” “The Dumpster would have better food in it.” “Well, excuse me, Miss Fine Dining.”

“He raised his hand in a peaceful gesture. "You need to relax a bit, dove. Like Mouse over there. You trust me, don't you, Mouse?""Nope!""Ahhh, I'm hurt. Nobody likes me.”

“As he passed me, he leaned to Curran and handed him a paper fan folded from some sort of flyer.Curran looked at the fan. “What?”"An emergency precaution, Your Majesty. In case the lady faints.”Curran just stared at him.Raphael strode toward the Pit, turned, flexed a bit, and winked at me."Give me that,” I told Curran. “I need to fan myself.”"No, you don’t.”

“The problem with being an alpha is that you can never make the first move.Makes you feel like you’re taking advantage of your position. You have to wait untilthe other person decides they want in.”Jim set the basket on the coffee table and crouched by me.“And sometimes it seems like that person likes you, and you try to test the waters,so you try to tell her how you feel, that she matters and that you want to be with herand you’re concerned about her safety. And every time you do that, she waves herarms around and accuses you of being a controlling alpha asshole. So you back offand hope you didn’t completely fuck it up.”He was close, too close. I just stared at him. What was happening . . . “Why areyou telling me this?”His voice was low and smooth. “That time when I told you it didn’t matter whatyour mother thought about your looks . . .”“Aha . . .”“I meant it,” he said. “Because I think you’re beautiful.”