I tended to be more a romantic than a realist, and chose blind faith over cold logic.

Strangely enough, it wasn’t Gabe who was haunting my thoughts, though. That job belonged to a pair of sinfully black eyes that had lost their edge when they studied me, turning as soft and sultry as silk.

You want me to come clean, I will. I'll tell you everything. Who I am and what I've done. Every last detail. I'll dig it all up, but you have to ask. You have to want it. You can see who I was, or you can see who I am now. I'm not good," he said, piercing me with eyes that absorbed all light but reflected none, "but I was worse.

I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower." He grinned, hopping off the bike. "Now that is an invitation.

Girl, I'm going to show you the bear in hug.

I don't go out with strangers," I said. "Good thing I do. I'll pick you up at five.

The subject’s pulse increased on contact,” he said. “Don’t write that.