“I don't want you stashing yourself away with your Smolny friends tonight," Maman said. "I want to see you dancing with lots of handsome young princes and grand dukes."I rolled my eyes and stared out the window at the snow-covered city. I resolved to dance with the ugliest and the poorest men in the ballroom--if they should ask me.”

“You look like a handsome young man…although you might want to zip your fly.Mom!What? Should I have not told you and left it for everyone else to notice at the dance?”

“I don't want to hide. I want to slow dance with you again. I want to dance with you forever.”

“May I see you again?" he asked. There was an endearing nervousness in his voice. I smiled. "Sure.""Tomorrow?" he asked."Patience, grasshopper," I counseled. "You don't want to seem overeager. "Right, that's why I said tomorrow," he said. "I want to see you again tonight. But I'm willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow." I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious," he said. "You don't even know me," I said. I grabbed the book from the center console. "How about I call you when I finish this?""But you don't even have my phone number," he said."I strongly suspect you wrote it in this book." He broke out into that goofy smile. "And you say we don't know each other.”

“What if I don't want to be friends with you?" he challenged, grinning again, staring directly into my eyes. Obviously taking me seriously was an impossibility for Evan. Despite not being able to breathe, I connected with his taunting gaze and refused to look away. "Then we won't be friends," I said flatly. "What if I want to be more than friends?”

“No, Dan.”“And you want me to go.”I looked into his eyes. “No. I don’t.”He moved closer, encouraged, and put his hand on my shoulder. “Then what do you want, Elle?”“I want you not to have to settle,” I told him.“Is that what you think I’m doing?”“I know that’s what you’ll be doing. Because if you want more from me, you’re not going to get it.”He said nothing for a long time. “When I readThe Little Prince, I thought you must be the rose. You with your four thorns, convincing me you’re able to defend yourself. But now I know you hate roses. So you must be the fox instead.So maybe what you really want is for me to tame you.”From a lot of men, that speech would have made me laugh, or roll my eyes. Then again, a lot of men wouldn’t haveread Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s classic story ofThe Little Prince, or bothered to try and understand it.I reached for his hand and held it between both of mine. “The fox tells the Little Prince he is a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. Just like the flower was like a hundred thousand other flowers.”Dan tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with the hand I wasn’t holding. “But the fox asked the prince to tame him.To make it so they’d need each other and be unique to each other. And he did it.”“And then the prince went away, Dan, and left the fox bereft.” I looked down at my hands, holding his.“Would you be sad if I left you?” He asked me, and at first I wasn’t sure how I would reply.At last the answer came on breath as tremulous as a breeze wafting curtains from an open window.“Yes. I would.”He squeezed my hand. “Then I won’t.”