“I felt so heavy with love. I could feel it packed inside my chest.”

“I'd rather wear bare skin than raw silk any day.”

“I didn't know his middle name or his favorite color, but I knew how his thoughts felt caressing my mind. The bright tang of his adrenaline coursing under my skin. The force of his heart, strong and rhythmic and a bit sad, pumping within my own chest.”

“I think you look like the spawn of Satan.""Yeah, and you still look like my brother's favorite blow-up doll.""Speaking of, what's the deal with the size of my breasts in last month's manual?" He'd drawn me so top heavy a stiff wind could have knocked me off balance."Creative license," he said with a shrug."A little too creative.”

“Why the hell didn't we just stay friends? That felt reasonably good. We had fun. I could tell him anything. Of course, he never told me very much about himself, but it didn't matter as much then. Now look at us. Throw some sex into the mix and it's like putting too much yeast in bread. It's all very fizzy and light and wonderful, but then is rises too high and can't support it's own weight and the whole thing falls flat.”

“Miss me?" he whispered, giving me the once-over, eyes lingering on my chest. My heart skipped a beat. My glyph pulsed painfully."Like a urinary tract infection," I said, through gritted teeth.”

“My Oma, my grandmother told me that the best friendships often start with a quarrel. She said there's a closeness that comes from a good healthy fight that you can't get any other way, and I think it must be true. Look at CM and me. Our friendship started with a fistfight and twenty-two years later it's still going strong. The friendship, I mean.”