“George walked into the room and looked at each of us in turn, ending with Thierry. "Hey, boss," he said as he lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke out slowly, "did Sarah really call you an asshole before"?"George!" I moaned. "Now? You habe to bring that up now?""Is this a bad time?" He didn't wait for an answer, or for the matter, a response to his first question. " I just figured that since I haven't heard any shooting in here, this might be a good time for me to take off.”

“Well...unfortunately there's a little problem," he said."What?"He pointed up. "That."I looked up to see the mistletoe dangling from the ceiling where I'd hung it three hours before."Okay, but what does that-?"Rhys kissed me. "I really, really, didn't want to like that," he said."Rhys-" But before I could say anything else, he kissed me again and pulled me closer.”

“Are you following me?" He asked."Us?" I was the first to speak. "Um, maybe. Hi there. How are you tonight?"He looked at me like I might be a bit crazy.”

“George pulled my hand away and inspected the wound. He frowned. "Sarah, honey, what happened?"I cleared my throat. "I fell on some barecue prongs.”

“Why were you running?” Gordon looked confused. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.”Bite me,” I told him. He was so going to get charged with assault. I might even have to put a restraining order on his sorry ass. “Oh, wait a minute, you already did bite me, didn’t you… you psycho!”He rolled his eyes. “You’re really going to have to get over that if this relationship is going to have half a chance.”

“But I'd done what I could to warm the place up. I'd started with a welcome mat. It had a happy face on it and was bright and colorful. It didn't say "Welcome." It said "!!!WELCOME!!!"I knew he wouldn't like it. I considered it more of an amusing test to see how open he was to change. He'd let me move in with him, but how flexible was he really willing to be?It disappeared the day after I placed it by the front door. It was just--poof!--gone. When I imagined the shocked look on his face when he would have first seen it, a spot of wacky and whimsical color in his otherwise monochromatic world, I started to laugh hysterically.”

“I don't know what his problem is," I said as Michael and I left the school. "Why would he tell me to be careful if he hates my guts?" "Because he doesn't hate your guts. I think he likes you." Michael was walking so fast I had to jog to keep up with him. "Isn't it obvious?”