I know you followed me. Don't look so surprised. It's called a rearview mirror.

I'm not good," he said, piercing me with eyes that absorbed all light but reflected none, "but I was worse.

You keep life on a short leash.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You’re scared of what you can’t control.

Hang on, did you just call me Angel?” I asked. “If I did?” “I don’t like it.” He grinned. “It stays. Angel.” He leaned across the table, raised his hand to my face, and brushed his thumb along one corner of my mouth. I pulled away, too late.

Patch backed me into a tree and kissed me, hard. I regained my breath. "Boys take not everywhere: That was a kiss.

Chauncey seethed at the outrageous insult. "And your father?" he demanded, extending the sword. He didn't yet know all his vassals, but he was learning. He would brand the family name of this boy to memory.

I had fun last night," I told Patch, flicking off my chin strap and handing over my helmet. "I'm officially on love with your sheets." "That the only thing you're in love with?" "Nope. Your mattress, too." Some smile crept into Patch's eyes. "My bed's an open invitation.