“I don’t know how in the fuck we got here, but somehow this game is more real than anything else.And I want it.I fucking want it.”

“I need more than the streets. I don’t want to be a floating crap game all my life. I want to be something . . . anything.”

“Honestly, I don’t quite know how we got to this point. I hated him on sight. I did this only for the money. I thought he was a fucked up mess. I still think he’s a fucked up mess. But so am I. And he’s so beautiful, so thoughtful, so vulnerable. We can be a mess together. I want to heal him. I know I can heal him.”

“I don't want to be yours. I want to be your fucking REAL.-REMY”

“See, you don’t get it. You never fucking got it. You’ve avoided me since Thanksgiving break.Dropped the Goddamn class and I know that was because of me, and every time I tried to talk to you, you fucking ran from me.”“You didn’t want to talk to me the day I thanked you for helping me out,” I pointed out.“Gee, I don’t know why? Maybe because you made it painfully clear you didn’t want anything to do with me. And then you just show up tonight?Out of the fucking blue and get drunk? You don’t get it.”

“Are you saying you don’t want anything from me?”“I want this. I want our arrangement. I want you…” I sucked in a breath, feeling my control slip. “…to fuck it out of me.”“Fuck what out, Jocelyn?”Couldn’t he see it? Was my mask really that good? I shrugged. “All the nothing”