Take some very deep breaths," Miranda said. "Relax. Concentrate. Then envision a frosty six-pack and wiggle your pinky." A frosty six-pack. Kylie inhaled. He held out her pinky, and right then Della chimed in. "We are talking a six=pack of soda, not a cold guy with good-looking abs, right?" There was a strange kind of sizzle in the air. And suddenly appearing in front of the refrigerator was a shirtless, shivering guy with great abs. His blue eyes studied the three of them in complete bafflement. "What the...!" he muttered. Kylie gasped. Miranda giggled. Della snorted with laughter.

When he didn't answer, she didn't know if it was because he couldn't or if he was back to not talking to her. Back to pushing her out of his life. Men! Why was it that boys said girls were so hard to understand, when she hadn't known a single guy who hadn't confused her to the point of screaming?

Be forewarned,' the vamp said, 'if I learn that there's anything romantic happening here, I'm sending him packing...less a few body parts.' Kylie's mouth dropped open. 'Romantic? Oh, please, he's old. He's as old as you.' Burnett's brow creased. 'Which is my point.' His frown deepened. 'Not that I'm *that* old.

Kylie didn't know which one of the fairies were doing it, or if it was both- she honestly didn't care- but the thousands of tiny pinpricks of panic started to fade. She felt safe and that was all that mattered.

What you are doesn't matter. Because what you are isn't going to change who you are.

I mean . . . who was it that said if the door is locked, find a window. If the windows locked, well . . . break it. If it won't break then find a freaking sledgehammer and make a new one.

You told dad you didn't know what happened to his underwear. But You'd just flame-broiled his shorts on the grill.