“I’m sorry, Eve. I love you. I’m not letting you do this.”She screamed and battered harder. “You love me? You asshole! Let me go!”

“I’m not a kid!” she told Shane hotly. “I’m only, like, a year younger than Eve!”“And girls are much more mature.” Eve nodded wisely. “So you’re about ten years older than Shane, then.”“Seriously,” Claire insisted. “I’m not a kid!”“Whatever you say, kid,” Shane said blandly. “Cheer up. Just means you don’t have to put up with me telling you how much sex I didn’t get.”“I’m telling Michael,” Eve warned.“About how much sex I didn’t get? Go ahead.”

“If you ask me if I’m imagining it again, I’m going to punch you out, Dead Man Walking.”Michael raised his eyebrows and glanced at Eve. “He doesn’t sound crazy.”“Er,” she clarified, “crazier. He sounds like he’s back to normal, which is baseline crazy.”

“Hey, Mikey? You get her hurt and I'll end you.""You let anything happen to Eve and I'll do the same," Michael said. He'd just finished kissing Eve, too. "While you're at it, don't get yourself killed, either, bro.""Ditto. And don't kiss me.”

“Seriously, Shane? Ditto? That's the best you can do?"Shane and Michael exchanged identical looks and shrugs. Guys."Let me show you idiots how it's done," Eve said, and hugged Claire fiercely. She kissed her on the cheek. "I love you, CB. Please take care of yourself, okay?""I love you, too," Claire said, and suddenly her throat felt tight and her eyes burned with tears. "I really do."Shane and Michael watched them with identical expressions of blank bemusement, and finally Shane said, "So basically, it's what I said. Ditto.”

“Right. That’s the end of the line for you tonight. You’re going home, I’m seeing you safe inside, and I’m going home to hide in a closet until this blows over. I suggest you do the same.”

“The look in his eyes turned a little wild. "That's the only reason I'm letting you go. If I had any choice--""You do," she said "Wed can all sit here and let him die. Or you can let Eve go on her wild-ass rescue mission and get herself killed. Or you can let sweet, calm, reasonable Claire go do some talking."He shook his head. His long, elegant hands, which looked so at home wrapped around a guitar, closed into fists. "Guess that means there's no choice.""Not really," Claire agreed. "I was kind of lying about that choice thing.”