“I turn to face him. "Listen, I'm grateful you're going to help me train now-really, I am. Thank you for that. But you can't go around proclaiming your fake love for me-especially not in front of Adam-and you have to let me cross this room before the breakfast hour is over, okay? I hardly ever get to see him."Kenji nods very slowly, looks a little solemn. You're right. I'm sorry. I get it.""Thank you.""Adam is jealous of our love.""Just go get your food!" I push him, hard, fighting back an exasperated laugh.”

“Are you kidding?” I stop in the middle of the kitchen. Spin around. My face is pulled together in disbelief. “You’ve spoken to me maybe once in the two weeks I’ve been here. I hardly even notice you anymore.”“Okay, hold up,” he says, turning to block my path. “We both know there’s no way you haven’t noticed all of this” — he gestures to himself — “so if you’re trying to play games with me, I should let you know up front that it’s not going to work.”“What?” I frown. “What are you talking abou—”“You can’t play hard to get, kid.” He raises an eyebrow. “I can’t even touch you. Takes ‘hard to get’ to a whole new level, if you know what I mean.”“Oh my God,” I mouth, eyes closed, shaking my head. “You are insane.”He falls to his knees. “Insane for your sweet, sweet love!”

“The man is moody as hell.”“I am not moody—”“Yeah, bro.” Kenji puts his utensils down. “You are moody. It’s always ‘Shut up, Kenji.’ ‘Go to sleep, Kenji.’ ‘No one wants to see you naked, Kenji.’ When I know for a fact that there are thousands of people who would love to see me naked—”

“You're my bird," I tell him. "You're my bird and you're going to help me fly away.”

“I'm not blind, okay? On a purely physical level? Yeah, you're pretty sexy-- and that suit you have to wear all the time doesn't hurt. But even if you didn't have that 'I kill you if I touch you' thing going on, you are definitely not my type. And more importantly, I'm not some perverted asshole," he says. "I take my job seriously. I get real shit done in this world, and I like to think people respect me for it.”

“Juliette, please, tell me what I'm supposed to do. How am I supposed to feel? It's one shitty thing right after another and I'm trying to be okay--God, I'm trying so hard but it's really freaking difficult and I miss--I miss you, I miss you so much it's killing me.”

“You can't touch me," I whisper. I'm lying, is what I don't tell him. He can touch me, is what I'll never tell him. Please touch me, is what I want to tell him.”