“Would you like to tie my hands and drag me out like your prisoner? You’ll look like the hero, and I might get a cheap thrill. - Kip to Abbey -”

“If you’re looking to make a little money on the side like I do, you might want to apply somewhere else. You’d have to wax your legs to make this dress work on you. - Abbey to Kip -”

“I can't believe this heat," Abbey said, taking her tunic and pulling it over her head. Underneath was a form-fitting top that showed a figure unaccustomed to idleness or excess. Kip stared at her the way he had at the shiney curves of the steel horse back in the garage. "Can you imagine what it must have been like hundreds of years ago, when weather changed just a few times a year?" she said, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. "Yeah, it must have looked great," Kip said. "What do you mean looked great?" Abbey said, turning her eye on Kip. "Must have been great, like you said," he corrected.”

“Your dad does like you. In fact, he wants to protect you from me. He told me to not bother trying to get my claws into you and drag you down to my level.Bother. Definitely bother. I like the idea of you getting your claws into me.”

“I want to get you out of here.""Don't you mean you want me to get you out of here?"He took my hand—yeah, my hand again. I was liking this. A lot. "No, I mean I want to get you out. This shouldn't be your life. You deserve a lot more. Like a locker.""And a driver's license?""Let's not get carried away.”

“You don’t want to look like your heroes, you want to see like your heroes.”