“I'm going to teach you to ride Princess." "Princess?" "My motorcycle." I laugh. "You named your motorcycle Princess?" "What can I say?" he teases. "I call all my favorite things princess.”

“I say it instead. "You told so," I admit. "You told me my image of Brody wasn't real, and you were right. I was just too blind to see it." He laughs a little. "You were to blind to see a lot of things Princess." It's reassuring when he calls me Princess-as opposed to princess or, worse, Lily. One seems too mocking, the other too intimate. His ironic nickname feels safe.”

“Hello?""You should check the curtains before you take a bath, princess,"a deep, mocking voice says."Wha-" I half scream, half yelp as I sit bolt upright in the bath............"Priceless,"he howls, still laughing. You never fail to amuse, princess.”

“Are you going to distract me by playing footsie?""Absolutely, princess," he says with a wink. "Then I won't remember a thing.""It's a samurai training technique," he teases, spinning the test prep book toward him. "I distract you as much as possible right now." He slides the book into his lap. "And you'll learn how to test through anything.”

“You'll get in," Quince assures me, proving once again that he can read my mind, even without a magical bond. "And if you don't," he adds, slinging an arm around my shoulders, "you can always take over for me at the lumberyard.""Ha ha," I reply, sending a sharp elbow into his ribs."Lighten up, princess.”

“You're watching me, princess." His soft lips spread into an appreciative smile. "People might get the wrong idea.""What, that I actually like you now?" I tease.He shakes his head and leans toward me. "No, that you're trying to see past me to get an eyeful of Benson."-------------------------------------------I shift my gaze to the board and fix an innocent look on my face. "What makes you think that's the WRONG idea?"Quince leans even closer and says, "Because you came back for me.”

“Admit it," He insists. "I was right." "No." I sniff. "You were wrong." sniff. "I'm just crying"-sniff- "cause i'm so happy." My tear take that lie as their cue and start streaming down my cheeks. "Come on, Princess," he says, "You don't need to cry over that loser." This only makes me cry harder. We both know who the loser is in this scenario. With a muttered curse, Quince wraps his arms around me and squeezes. It feels remarkably like a hug. "Don't cry," he whispers in my ear. "Please." I don't know if it's his soft words or the fact that my face is now hidden by his broad chest, but i just let go. Three years of longing and loving from a distance have built to the breaking point, and i let it out all over his west coast choppers T-shirt. "shhh," He soothes. "He's not worth it.”