“The emptinesss was a hole that only he could fill. He was the relief. It pulled from every direction, this yearning for him. All he needed to do was speak the words, “Kiss me,” and I would obey.”

“All we have is now, this moment. If you live in the future, you’ll miss things, right here, right now, and you’ll regret it later.”

“It's not my fault I've got sexy eyes.”

“He pulled me closer. kneeling in front of me,he kissed me intensely and i felt right. Morning and evening slipped away. it was just us. Silence surrounded us. My heart leapt and i kiss him back, knowing so truly that i loved him. My heart cried and I pulled away, knowing so truly that he had betrayed me.”

“I pushed passed him. He grabbed my hand and swung me back towards him. Then he pushed me against the wall and... he kissed me.He ran his thumb along my jawline and down my throat, hips pinning me to the wall. He kissed me slowly and with intensity, and once I got over the mind-numbing shock and comprehended what was actually happening, it was incredible. I had never been kissed like that before. We melted together. Every movement of mine was somehow perfectly mirrored by his. My heart was pounding so hard I knew he must be able to feel it and I was sure my legs were giving way, but he held me up, pushed me harder against the wall.I grabbed a handful of his hair, remembering all the times I'd dreamed of doing it. I let my hand drift down his back and pulled him even closer to me. It all happened so quickly. I heard him make a low kind of growl and lean into me. His hand slid down my leg behind my knee, drawing it to him. I moaned and felt him tense.”

“He was a fool. Claire Montoya was convinced she didn’t need anyone. That her way was the only way.He kept walking.Because only a fool would want a woman who would never let him in. He could touch her skin, touch her body, but she’d never trust him enough to let him touch her heart. Not the way he wanted. And he couldn't do that. Not with her. Her terms were unacceptable, her barriers too high.”

“It comes out of my mouth like water: the things he said at the beginning, what it's like to know a person's smell, the anxious catch that now has dulled to normal when I hold the pay phone and it rings and rings. How underneath I don't believe he's coming anymore, and I wish I could turn the air beside me into something solid to fill the hole he leaves. How sometimes when he'd touch me I'd go out onto the very edges of myself, far like on a tightrope or a plank, and balance knowing there was only air to catch me; how he'd hold me there till it got scary, sometimes longer, and it was realer and more raw than any thing I'd ever felt. How he would always close his eyes and seem so comfortable, casual even, and I was always amazed at that: how brave he must be for it not to scare him at all. How sometimes it broke me into two pieces, and I'd lie there under him naked and stretched out past my skin, and another me would watch from the ceiling. Even if it was too much I had to grow to hold it, because it belonged to me now, and I belonged to him, and if I let any of the pressure of it spill like water from my faucet mouth, it would all leak out and be gone from me forever. That's what he always said. ”