I tired the back door -- unlocked. Truley the Man Upstairs was smiling down on me.

It was about falling asleep with Sam's chest pressed against my back so I could feel his heart slow to match mine. It was about growing up and realizing that the feel of his arms around me, the smell of him when he was sleeping, the sound of his breathing -- that was home and everything I wanted at the end of the day. It wasn't the same as being with him and we were awake.

Sean settles swiftly behind me, and I'm startled by the sudden closeness of him, my back suddenly warm against his chest, the press of his hips on against me. i turn to ask him a question, and he jerks his face away from the proximity of mine. I say, "Oh. Sorry.

His lips tasted cool and sharp, peppermint, winter, but his hands, soft on the back of my neck, promised long days and summer and forever.

There's a metaphor for the American public in here," Gansey murmered darkly, "but it escapes me at the moment.

It's all you think about, all you talk about, and all you want us to talk about. What in the world would we call something like that? Oh, yeah! An obsession!

The truth is, until you know any different, the island is enough. Actually, I know different. And it's still enough.