“"If you want that kind of thing, call Nick. His advice is shit, but he really likes to give it.”
“Do you really think he untied you? .. He was just checking his kids handiwork.”
“So," Simon said. "Looks like you and Derek are getting along again. What happened? Did he give you the look?""Look?""You know. The one that makes him look like a whipped puppy, and makes you feel like a jerk for doing the whipping.""Ah, that one. So it works on you, too?"He snorted. "It even works on Dad. We give in, we tell him it's okay, and the next thing you know, he's chewing up slippers again."I laughed.”
“He pulled back, barely a fraction, but I knew he was hurt. Why was it so easy to do that these days? For both of us. He wouldn't want to talk about something, and I'de be hurt. Or I wouldn't want to talk about something, and he'd be hurt. Or he'd invite me along with the guys, and I'd analyze every nuance of his voice and expression, worrying that he really didn't want me along, was only being polite. Or, like the other night, I'd want to comfort him, but would be worried about how he might misinterpret that.It never used to be like this. Maybe that's just part of having a close friend of the opposite sex. As a kid, you don't think anything about it. Then you're a teenager, and you can't help but think about it.”
“Bingo pup. It's a lesson best learned early. They're all afraid of us." He strolled over to Derek. "You're trying to be a good kid, aren't you? You think that'll show them they're wrong. So how'd that working out for you? Guess what? They don't care. To them, you're a monster, and nothing you do--or don't do--will change their minds. My advice? Give 'em what they want. It's a short, brutal life." He smiled. "Live it up."Derek stared straight ahead, patiently waiting."He can't hear a word I'm saying, can he?" Liam said."Nope.”
“You saw a ghost, didn't you?" he said.To my relief, I managed to laugh. "Hate to break it to you, butthere's no such thing as ghosts."Huh."His gaze traveled around the laundry room, like a cop searchingfor an escaped convict. When he turned thatpiercing look on me, its intensity sucked the backbone out of me.What do you see, Chloe?"I -I-I don't s-s-s-"Slow down." He snapped the words, impatient. "What do theylook like? Do they talk to you?"You really want to know?"Yeah."I chewed my lip, then lifted onto my tiptoes. He bent to listen.They wear white sheets with big eye holes. And they say 'Boo!'" Iglowered up at him. "Now get out of myway."I expected him tosneer. Cross his arms and say, Make me, little girl.His lips twitched and I steeled myself, then I realized he was smiling.Laughing at me.He stepped aside. I swept past him to the stairs.”
“I looked up at him. His green eyes glittered in the dark, reflecting the moonlight like a cat's. His scowl had vanished. The defiance was gone, too, replaced by a tightness around his mouth, a worry that clouded his eyes; and seeing that quicksilver change, I wanted to...I don't know what I wanted to do. Kick him in the shins seemed like a good option. Unfortunately, bursting into tears seemed more likely, because here lay the root of the problem, the contradiction in Derek that I couldn't seem to work out, no matter how hard I tried.One second he was in my face, making me feel stupid and useless. The next he was like this: hovering, concerned, worried. I told myself it was just his wolf instinct, that he had to protect me whether he wanted to or not, but when he looked like this, like he'd pushed me too far and regretted it . . . That look said he genuinely cared.”