“Sweet on the street, alpha in the sheets.”

“Whit looks like an angel when she sleeps. She's all sweet, full lips, long, curly eyelashes, and a tumble of sleek, dark hair against the pillow.She also kicks like a mule, snores like a bear, sweats like a hog, and steals the covers like a fat, menacing caterpillar about to cocoon herself before her metamorphosis. - Deo”

“What man doesn't have dress socks and shoes?" he asks pointedly. "You wanna grow up to be a hobo?”

“I hand over some files to and her eyes meet mine, all cool and sweet like a snow-cone in July.”

“I inhale, and the two best smells in my world get trapped in my lungs: the salty, cool sting of the ocean in the morning and sweet, morning-sweaty smell of Whit.”

“You're welcome, ma'am."My head whips up at the ma'am.Not that I haven't heard that word spilled like sticky sweet syrup from a thousand mouths of a thousand boys who've been born and bred to use it everyday.There's something about this boy, the way that word just slides off his tongue, buoyed with cautious respect and elegant pleasure.Like he loves saying the word.Like his lips weigh the worth of it.”

“The problem with passion is it goes both ways. Love/Hate. The line between those two is a lot thinner than I thought.”