“I realize the congressman isn't in. I want you to deliver this message to him personally: Tell him to shut his goddamn mouth!... I know we're working behind the scenes to protect the oil company from its victims. That's exactly why he needs to go mute. Those were the strict ground rules from the beginning of his term: no press conferences, no interviews except Fox, and sit like a silent lump in the committee... Because he's fucking stupid! And I'm not going to let him throw this away! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get a moron like that elected?”

“You were always saying you were gonna shoot him," he mutters, but it's kind of half-hearted. "Stupid fucking little tit, he needs a bullet in his head. What do you keep him round for, anyway?" Because he makes me laugh. Because, fuck knows why, he adores me. Because he needs somebody to look after him and nobody else knows how. Because everything about us is wrong and I never ever want to be right. Because I wake up in the morning and see him sleeping next to me with his stupid dyed hair and his stupid painted nails and his stupid toy monkey and I remember I love him so much I don't know what to do, I love him I love him I LOVE HIM.”

“He pulled away abruptly - self-preservation required it - and pressed his brow to hers, breathing deep. "You remember one thing. You decide you want to get married, it's going to be me."Briony watched him stalk outside, slamming the kitchen door behind him. Both eyebrows raised, she turned to Ken.Close your mouth, honey. That's just Jack trying to be romantic and failing miserably. Don't let him get away with that shit either. If he's going to ask you, make him do it all they way. You know - down on one knee, looking stupid."Briony nearly choked. "That's just mean, Ken."He leaned close to her. "If you do it, Briony, tell me first so I can videotape it. I could blackmail him for the rest of his life.”

“Do you have any idea how much you mean to me Layla? Any at all? Because Isometimes think, if you did, you wouldn’t keep torturing me like this. I can’t keep watching you with him. The way you gaze into his eyes, the way hekisses you and when you tell him you love him, I hate you. I hate you for loving him. I hate you for choosing him. I hate you for wanting him so badly.But mostly, I hate myself for not being him! I can’t hide it anymore. I’ve tried so fucking hard that I swear I’m going crazy sometimes. It’s eating at me.I can’t sleep, can’t think; I can’t even function because I’m thinking about you so much. But I get it, I do, it’s him you want and from now on I’m handsoff. But I have to let you know how I feel before I go nuts.”

“Cricket removes his hand. I blink at him, and he cautiously offers his arm. I hesitate. And then I take it. And then we're so close that I smell him. I smell him. His scent is clean like a bar of soap, but with a sweet hint of mechanical oil. We don't speak as he leads me across the street to the bus stop. I press against him. Just a little. His other arm jumps, and he lowers it. But then he raises it again, slowly, and his hand comes to rest on top of mine. It scorches. The heat carries a message: I care about you. I want to be connected to you. Don't let go.”

“Do you know how perfect you are?" Gabriel twisted his hand in Rase's hair and Rase's eyes slipped half-shut as he moaned involuntarily. "Like that. I don't even know you. I'm fucking nobody. And then you get down on your fucking knees and make me into the goddamn universe. Not because you can afford it, but because you can't help it. Oh, Christ, Rase, that is so fucking hot. You made me want it, too." He wrenched at Rase's hair, then let go, shoving Rase's head to the side as he backed away.”