“To be honest," I halfwhispered,"I don't feel as safe with him as Ido with you.""I know."A ghost of a smile touched my lips. "Howdo you know?""Think about what safety is, Ella.""Trust?""Yes, partly. But also an absence of risk."He unstuck a strand of hair from my dampcheek and tucked it back. "Maybe you needto take a risk. Maybe you need to be withsomeone who rattles you a little.”

“I don't know if I've ever really touched him. Maybe once or twice when passing papers back. You know, even shorter, his hair looks so soft. Maybe it's time I rub it a little. So I can give more concrete details.I stretch my hand across my desk, but stop when I realize the horror of what I was about to do. Pet Sean. Have I lost my mind?”

“I thought part of the idea of having therapy was putting one in touch with his or her feelings. And don’t give me all that about transference, and counter-transference and all that. I know what I feel. And it has nothing to do with all that. And you also feel for me. And if you don’t know that, then maybe it’s you who needs to have therapy to gain a better knowledge of yourself.”

“We’re a lot alike that way. You know I never back down from a challenge.” He reached over, brushed my hair back, and tucked it behind my ear. “Not the safest way to go through life.” “Maybe not. But it’s my way.”

“It's my hurt, my pain, and who are you to take it from me? I don't need rescuing, I don't need pity, I don't need opinions, I need fucking--and maybe a little spanking for indulging my anger.”

“You're not having sex with him. I know these guys, and you don't. I'm trusting you with Claudia Reeshman. You need to trust me about Dean Robillard." She wouldn't let him off that easily. "You're looking for a wife. Maybe I'm just looking for a little fun." "If you need fun," he shot back, 'I'll give you fun." She was stunned.”