“Go to Hell."He works his jaw. Walks to the door. "I'm working on it.”

“His smile is laced with dynamite. "Go to sleep""Go to hell."He works his jaw. Walks to the door. "I'm working on it.”

“You can go to hell!""Just because I'm going to hell doesn't mean you'll ever deserve her.”

“I'm just messing with you guys. I like seeing psycho chick get all intense." He glances at me, lowers his voice. "I mean that as a compliment--because, you know"--he waves a haphazard hand in my direction--"psycho kind of works for you.”

“My face is in his hands and my lips are at his lips and he's kissing me and I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe.”

“All I know next are his arms, the desperate edge to his voice when he says my name, and I'm unraveling in his embrace, I'm frayed and falling apart and I'm making no effort to control the tremors in my bones and he's so hot his skin is so hot and I don't even know where I am anymore.”

“I'd appreciate if you'd grow the hell up and stop walking around like the world crapped on your only roll of toilet paper.”