“Josh isn’t in love with me and I’m not in love with him.”“Sell it to someone who’s buying, Sunshine. Have you seen the way he looks at you?” I’ve seen the way he looks at me but I don’t know what it means. “Like you’re a seventeenth-century, hand-carved table in mint condition.”

“I’m going to go," he said."All right."He didn’t move. Then: "I don’t want to.""Do it anyway."He chuckled. "You’re a hard woman, Faith Devlin.""Hardy.""I didn’t know him. He isn’t real to me. Did you love him?""Yes." But not the way I love you. Never like that.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”My stomach lurched. “What do you mean? How does he look at me?”“Like you’re not a student and he’s not a teacher.”

“You like being in love with someone who’s not going to love you back.” She opened her eyes. He looked at her. “Why would I like that?” she asked. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“But I liked you from the moment I first heard your voice,” he said, “when I had no idea what you looked like. I thought it delicious, the way you bargained for me, as though I were an old rug. Then I loved the way you looked at me. Then I loved the way you ordered me about. I loved your patient and impatient ways of explaining things to me. I love the sound of your voice and the way you move. I love your courage and your kindness and your generosity and your obstinacy and your passion.” He paused. “You’re the genius. What do you think that means?”

“You’re so damn strong, Liv, and you don’t even realize it. I’m the one who’s always had to show people I’m successful, an achiever, the best at everything I did. I’m the one who’s always been a goddamn egotist. A groveler. And you…you’re the first person who’s ever…Christ, Liv, sometimes the way you look at me makes me feel like I can hang the fucking moon.”