They said the moment I fell in love with you was the moment you'd leave.

I wondered why life had to suck so hard sometimes.

Patch is the last person you want to antagoonize. He doesn't hold grudges because the people who cross him tend to disappear quickly.

Since we're keeping it primal, you smell good," he observed. "It's called a shower...," I began automatically, then trailed off. My memory snagged, taken aback by a compelling and forceful sense of undue familiarity. "Soap, shampoo, hot water," I added, almost as an afterthought. "Naked. I know the drill," Jev said, something unreadeble passing over his eyes.

The more time I spent with him, the more I knew the feelings weren't going away.

It would be like a cleansing diet. The problem was, the only diet I'd ever been on backfired. Once I tried to go an entire month without chocolate. Not one bite. At the end of two weeks, I broke down and binged on more chocolate that I would have eaten in three months. I hoped my chocolate-free diet didn't foreshadow what would happen if I tried to avoid Patch.

One more thing. I sold the mustang. Too conspicuous. Don't get too excited, but I bought you a little something with the extra cash. I heard you've had your eye on a Volkswagen. The owner is dropping it by tomorrow. I paid for a full tank of gas, so make sure she delivers.