“So what did you want to talk about?" I ask Ty grins that wicked smile of his again. He whispers, "I lied. I just wanted an excuse to sit with you.”

“Did you wonder?” he whispered. “Did you leave me and wonder what I hadn’t told you?” He leaned in, just so she’d feel his lips move whisper-light against her ear. “Did you want to know what I did when I was wicked? Do you want me to tell you?” he murmured. He felt her jerk slightly in surprise, and he chuckled. “Not about them, Francesca. You. Only you.”-Michael Stirling”

“So what about that key?" I asked."I knew you'd be asking me about it sooner or later." He pulled the cord out from underneath his shirt and dangled the key in front of me."What do you want for it?" I sneered. "Five dollars?""I don't want money," he said with a wicked grin."What does it go to?""A kiss will unlock more than this key will," he whispered in my ear.”

“So what are you going to tell her?""A little help?" I pleaded. "What does she want to know?"He shook his head, grinning wickedly. "That's not fair.""No, you not sharing what you know-now that's not fair.”

“Why am I so drawn to you?" He muttered, almost to himself. "Why is it so hard to let go? I thought... at first... it was Ariella, that you remind me of so much. But it's not." Though he didn't smile, his eyes lightened a shade. "You're far more stubborn than she ever was." I sniffed. "That's like the pot calling the kettle black," I whispered, and a faint, tiny grin finally crossed his face, before his expression clouded and he lowered his head, touching his forehead to mine. "What do you want of me, Meghan?" he asked, a low thread of anguish flickering below the surface. Tears blurred my vision, all the fear and heartache of the past few days rising to the surface. "Just you," I whispered. "I just want you."-Ash and Meghan”

“He sits down on the edge of the bed. “I wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t food or family.” There’s no humor in his thin smile. “I wanted to talk to someone who had enough courage to take what she wanted.”