With a chuckle, Jack mumbled under his breath to Nick. 'It's like watching the preppy, well-bred versions of you and me trash-talking.

We're out of time, Payton. You said it yourself: the only way we'll make it is for us to go into this together. I know we can do this. But I need you to believe it. You need to believe... in us." Peyton didn't say anything for a long moment, and J.D. could literally hear his heart beating. Then she finally answered. "It would have to be called Kendall and Jameson." It took J.D a moment to catch on. Then he grinned. "No way. Jameson and Kendall. It's alphabetical." "You told our boss that you banged me on top of your desk." "Kendall and Jameson sounds great

Some jobs required a certain level of detachment; a turning off of emotions in order to do the things that needed to be done.

Good. Or instead, what if I just told you that I love you?” Payton gazed into his eyes. “What would you say, J. D. Jameson, if I told you that?” J.D. smiled. He touched his forehead to Payton’s, closed his eyes, and answered her with one word. “Finally.

Sweet Jesus. It was The Delicious in the dark shirt and jeans.

She spoke under her breath to Nick. "Is there a reason he's only wearing one sock?" "He puked on his foot." "Oh." She turned back to Huxley. "Can we get you another sock? Maybe a blanket or something?

He maybe, possibly, said that if he got word of anyone getting in your way, they’d find out whether there was any truth to the rumor about him knowing how to kill a man with paper clips.