“To: [email protected]: [email protected]: If I could do it over......I wouldn't treat you so badly. I'm sorry.Today wasn't about the bet.Give me another chance.GJust like him: brief, cryptic, and full of crap.”

“You’ll get over being mad at me.”“Not likely.”Step, step, step—“I promise not to gloat about it when you do.”“I won’t.”Step, step, step—“Because I want to be with you so badly I don’t care if you’re screaming at me the whole time as long as I’m with you.”I stop dead in my tracks.”

“Did you-"Griffin shoves past him and grabs me by the shoulders. "Are you alright?" "Of course. Didn't they tell you?"From the dark look in his normally bright eyes, I'm going to guess no. He twists to look back over his shoulder and practically growls. "They didn't tell me anything. Except that I had to wait out here.""Um, I need to go," Troy says, backing down the steps. "I have class in the morning.""Coward," I taunt.”

“I am interested in you, Gretchen." When I still won't look at him, he presses his fingers against my jaw and gently turns my face. He is looking straight in my eyes when he says, "I'm interested in you."His midnight blues burn with an intensity that almost makes me believe him. Makes me want to believe him. He knows just the right thing to say to mess with my mind. He always has. He leans closer, watching me. His lips are a breath away from mine.This time I'm not buying it.My knee connects with his soft spot and he doubles over, gasping for air."Find your own way home," I snap before turning and marching back to my car.”

“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.”

“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.”

“How do you always know just what to say?" I ask. His laugh rumbles through me. "Practice, I guess."I pull back and give him a quizzical look."I spent three years imagining what I would say to you if you were mine," he says, tugging me close. "I should hope I know what to say now that I've got you.”