“My brother spent a large portion of the agonizingly slow drive to school banging his forehead on the stearing wheel.”

“Lolita,” he said, turning my book over in his hands. His eyes widened over the pink-lipped mouth on the cover, then handed it to me. Our fingers brushed, and a warm current coursed through them. My heart thundered so loud he could probably hear it.“So,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “You’re a smuthound with daddy issues?” The corner of his mouth turned up in a slow, condescending smile.I wanted to smack it off his face. “Well, you’re quoting it. And incorrectly, by the way. So what does that make you?”His half-smile morphed into a whole grin. “Oh, I’m definitely a smuthound with daddy issues.”

“My brother cleared his throat. "I wish she knew that I think she is the most hilarious person on Earth. And that whenever she's not home, I feel like I'm missing my partner in crime."My throat tightened. Do not cry. Do not cry."I wish she knew that she's really Mom's favorite--" I shook my head here."--the princess she always wanted. That Mom used to dress her up like a little doll and parade her around like Mara was her greatest achievement. I wish Mara knew that I never minded, because she's my favorite too.”

“I’m sorry, is driving and talking too complicated? No problem, I’ll shut up.”

“Did I just see you litter?''I'm driving a hybrid. It cancels out.”

“Um, I think your brother might be waving at you. That, or trying to guide a plane to safety.”

“It doesn't matter", he murmured against my skin. His fingers traced the cuts, healing the veins beneath them. "There's only one thing that does.""What?" I whispered. He looked at me through his long,, dark lashes, with my hands still in his. "Killing Jude.”