I could shave my head and wear a sackcloth and still get a whole lot of ghostly wrong numbers. Makes me wonder if there’s some kind of ghost-necro porn industry down there. ~Jaime Vegas

You were just worried about me." An exhale, relieved that I had understood. "Yeah" I turned. "Because you think I'm worth it" He put his fingers under my chin. "I absolutely think your worth it." "But you don't think you are." His mouth opened. Shut. "That's what this is about, Derek. You won't let us worry about you because you don't think you're worth it. But I do. I absolutely do.

He was tall and scrawny with a face that could be mistaken with Keith Richards on a bad day.

Oh, my God! It's a killer Pomeranian." I glanced up at Derek. "It's a tough call, but I think you can take him.

We have Kenjii. We have my cell phone. Since we aren't officially dating, I'm sure you'll agree that's all the protection we need.

Derek lunged. He hit me in the shoulder and knocked me to the floor, landing on top of me. His body jerked, like he'd been hit with the spell, and I let out a yelp, struggling to get up, but he held me down, whispering "I'm okay, it's okay" until the words penetrated.

Remembering. Forgetting. I'm not sure which is worse.