“Right,” I fumed, my index finger poking him in thechest. “So we’re even then. My kiss didn’t count because itwas an accident and yours didn’t count because it wasstrictly for medical purposes. Neither of them counted askisses.”“Would you have wanted them to?” Brent demandedsuddenly, bending his neck so he whispered it in my ear”

“I have so many friends I couldn’t even count them on one hand—not even if I had six fingers. Now, if I had seven fingers, I could count on them, but I still wouldn’t be able to count on my friends.”

“Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don't want to miss any of them.”

“Thanks," I say. Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don't want to miss any of them.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” I whisper as he kisses my neck. “Even when I didn’t know you, my soul still missed you.”

“He laughed and then leaned in and kissed my neck. It was our second kiss. Yes, I was counting. And no, I didn't want it on the neck. "Do you want to hear more?""We live, right? Because it's not looking very good."He laughed again, and I knew in that instant it was a sound I wouldn't want to live without.”