“He smelled like alcohol and a bad dream.”

“Come here. Then we'll talk."That sounds like a bad idea to her. "I can hear you fine right here.""Is it the arrows?" He kicks bow and quiver into the stream and grins a grin that puts the devil to shame. "There. Now I'm harmless.""No?" He tilts his head, shifting to his side so he can lean his stubbled chin on his hand. "Well, harmless enough. Don't you think?""No.”

“People only picked the pretty, sweet-smelling flowers. The ones with thorns were left alone.”

“Too bad. Game over. Insert new fucking quarter.”

“Careful,” he said. “If you keep blushing like that I may do more than just draw you.”

“I couldn't tell anyone how I felt because I knew they wouldn't understand. Oh, poor little Christina, falling for the bad man who treats her like dirt because she didn't know any better. And isn't it a pity that they don't still teach sex-ed in schools? Or, oh, Christina, that filthy slut, if she puts out for a man like that, I imagine she puts out for anyone. You stay away from her. It wasn't like that at all. Maybe it would have been easier if it was, just like ticking a box. Are you the Madonna, or the whore? The victim, or the vixen? The Sabine, or the skank?But nothing in life is ever that simple.”

“I remember something.""Yes?""You told me once that you were going to break my heart."He rolls over to face her. "Yes," he says. "I may once have said something like that.""What happened?"His beautiful eyes are even more hypnotic up close."You broke mine.”