This means nothing,” she said. “Less than nothing,” he lied. “I’ll hate myself later.” “I hate myself now.

Don't kill the messenger, but I'm think you should change your dating profil to balding." -- Paris to William

Let me tell you what I just heard. Talk, talk, talk, I. Talk, talk, talk, I. Well, what about me?

Don't look now, but that's my ex over there." Surely I'm not the only one who takes "don't look now" as "there's no better time than now." I looked. "Bad, Ali!" Another slap to my arm. "Bad, bad, bad Ali! Have you no self control?

If your mom was here, she would flip her top over your grades." "Flip her lid," I muttered.

Leap out the window, my inner Tigress cried. You aren't ready to face such a powerful Tiger. I frowned. I thought a true Tigress never backed down from a fight. Don't you know anything? When she's in heat, she avoids everything male. Now run!

Yes, you make yourself useful, angel boy. Meanwhile, I’ll be in the bathroom.” William’s jet-black hair was dripping wet and plastered to his face. There was a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist, displaying muscles that rivaled Paris’s own, and a tattooed treasure map that led to his man junk. Looking at his, you could see the makings of a temper so savage anyone who miraculously survived an encounter with him would end up needing therapy. And diapers. “I’ve got to finish deep conditioning my hair.” Or maybe not so savage.