“And when we left Colorado last month, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever make another friend again.”“But then I came into your life. Sounds like fate to me.”

“The last nice young man I’d met had nearly broken me. I wasn’t ready to be tied down again. And I wasn’t ready to share what was left of myself yet, either.”

“I’d like to be your friend,” Gabriel said, gazing down at her. “And I’m going to keep my little friend very close to make sure she doesn’t run away again.”

“I wasn’t sure what expression I was expecting her to wear when she saw that it was me. I’d braced myself for disgust or anger. But she justlooked at me like I was — nothing. An annoyance, maybe.”

“Happiness expanded like an explosion inside me – so extreme, so violent that I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.”

“If my skin wasn’t flesh, but was tinfoil, I’d probably not only be left-handed, but I’d be a leftover. I guess the real question is, Would you rather make love to me or make dinner?”