“Lassiter hit pause and clamped a hard hand on his shoulder."Sit the fuck back. Watch and learn.""What? How much I hate rom-coms? How 'bout we just stipulate that and let me go.""You're going to need this."" For my second career as a pussy?”

“Before we go on from here, I just want to say," he paused and took a step closer to me and reached his hand out to my heart. "What I should have said back on the plane is I know you're real." His eyes narrowed, "I'll always fight for you, Lexi, in my own way.”

“But ... but what if I hit you?”A snort. “You’re not going to hit me.”“How do you know?” I bristled at his amused tone. “I could hit you. Even master swordsmen make mistakes. I could get a lucky shot, or you might not see me coming. I don’t want to hurt you.”He favored me with another patient look. “And how much experience do you have with swords and weapons in general?” “Um.” I glanced down at the saber in my hand. “Thirty seconds?”He smiled, that calm, irritatingly confident smirk. “You’re not going to hit me.”

“You're going to need a better reason this time. A real reason. And just to be clear, I don't give a fuck what it is because I am not going to let you go. Period.”

“He favored me with another patient look. “And how much experience do you have with swords and weapons in general?” “Um.” I glanced down at the saber in my hand. “Thirty seconds?”He smiled, that calm, irritatingly confident smirk. “You’re not going to hit me.”

“Where is my chance to be somebody's Peter Van Houten?' He hit the steering wheel weakly, the car honking as he cried. He leaned his head back, looking up. 'I hate myself I hate myself I hate this I hate this I disgust myself I hate it I hate it I hate it just let me fucking die.”