“Once again Bobby Tom glanced at her over the top of Cheryl Lynn’s fluffy blond curls. “How was the spaghetti you ordered?” “It was excellent.” “I’m not much for the green stuff they poured over it.” “Are you referring to the pesto?” “Whatever. I like a nice meat sauce.” “Of course you do. With a double rack of greasy ribs on the side, I’ll bet.” “You’re making my mouth water just thinking about it.” Cheryl Lynn lifted her head from his shoulder. “You’re doin’ it again, B.T.” “Doing what, sweetheart?” “Talkin’ to her.” “Oh, I don’t think so darlin’. Not when I got you on my mind.”

“You will die.” “I guess. I don’t know.” She shook her head, trying to pick through her feelings. “I used to think I was alive just because I kept getting away. If someone didn’t put a bullet in my head, I was winning. I was still breathing, right?” She looked at the blackened land around her, feeling tired and sad and alone. “But now I’m thinking it ain’t like that. Now I’m thinking that once you got enough dead looking over your shoulder, you’re dead anyway. Don’t matter if you’re still walking and talking, they weigh you down.”

“As Robin thought about what he had just said, Noah got up from the chair and knelt down in front of her. 'How about I give you three reasons? Morning, day, and night.'She narrowed her eyes.'Stay… so every morning when I open my eyes, you’ll be the first thing I see. Stay… so every day when I’m with you, I can show you all over again exactly how much you mean to me. And stay… so every night when you lay your head down next to mine, you’ll know… you’ll know just how much you’re loved.'Her eyes drifted to the water as she thought for a moment, returning to look deep into Noah’s eyes.'Okay, Noah… I’ll stay.”

“Elizabeth lifted her head and glared at him. “I don’t want you to take me home. You’re fired.”“So you told me. I’m taking you home anyway. You can fire me again when we get there.”“Okay.” Her head dropped to his shoulder, and she was blissfully quiet on the ride home.”

“That’s when I notice Cheryl and Mickey cuddled up on the couch. She’s leaning on his shoulder, his arm around her, her leg across his lap. Cheryl throws glances at Kerry that say, “Look at me!” while Kerry shoots a “You go, girl!” smirk right back. I think of CK, how he and I often sat like that. Not because we were seconds from making out or wanted to look like a couple, but just out of a deep, platonic connection. My heart hits a higher notch on the ache-o-meter, my teeth sear into my bottom lip, and then something inside me snaps as cleanly as a crayon.”

“He’s quiet for a minute, then grins again. “I can’t believe you think I’m hot.” “Shut up.” “You probably faked passing out the other day, just so you could be carried in my hot, sweaty, manly arms.” “Shut up.” “I’ll bet you fantasize about me at night, right here in this bed.” “Shut up, Holder.” “You probably even…” I reach over and clamp my hand over his mouth. “You’re way hotter when you aren’t speaking.”