“Current relationship status?” Her voice cut like an arctic chill blowing through the room.“If you mean me, then you’re not my type. If you mean my dad, he’s single, but I don’t think you’re his type either,” I said with a small smile. Mercy didn’t find it amusing. A small blue vein in her forehead started throbbing like crazy....“Actually, come to think of it, I don’t think he has a type. I’ve never seen him with a woman.Mercy, I hate to break it to you, but there’s a very real possibility my dad is gay.”

“Ryder: “Well, you’re not the type I want to be my first either.”Grace:“What?” Ryder: “You’re the type I want to be my last. You know...the settle down and marry sort. If you’re my first, then I won’t get to—I don’t know—sow any wild oats or anything.”

“I don’t want to date her; I just want to be around her. She’s…different.”“Different how?” America asked, sounding irritated.“She doesn’t put up with my bullshit, it’s refreshing. You said it yourself, Mare. I’m not her type. It’s just not…like that with us.”“You’re closer to her type than you know,” America said.”

“She set her hands neatly in her lap. “But you just said he liked you.” “No, I said he enjoys my company. That is, he enjoys hating me. Or pretending to hate me. I don’t know which. But I’m finding it difficult to completely dislike someone who gets pleasure from having me around. ...“So he likes being mean to you,” she said. “And you like that he likes being mean to you.” “And I like being mean to him, too, don’t forget.” “Of course not. Pleasure from meanness. There’s a name for it: sadomasochism.”

“Open your eyes.”Julia looked up into a pair of blue orbs that were startlingly clear and very emotional, but she could not decipher the emotions. He smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead again before rolling onto his back and gazing up at the stars.“What are you thinking?” She shifted herself so that she was curled up at his side, close to but not touching him with her body.“I was thinking about how I waited for you. I waited and waited, and you never came.” He smiled at her sadly.“I’m sorry, Gabriel.”“You’re here now. Apparuit iam beatitudo vestra.”“I don’t know what that means.” She sounded shy.“It means now your blessedness appears. But really, it should be now my blessedness appears. Now that you’re here.” He pulled her closer, snaking his arm beneath her neck and down to her waist where he splayed his hand, fingers wide, at the small of her back. “For the rest of my life, I’ll dream of hearing your voice breathe my name.”

“I want a love like me thinking of you thinking of me thinking of you type love, or me telling my friends more than I've ever admitted to myself about how I feel about you type love ”