Don’t,” Michael said. It was soft, and it was a warning, through and through. “You try to hurt her again and I’ll pull your arm off.

You couldn't be romantic if your life depended on it." "You know what's lucky? Most bad guys don't ask you to be romantic on command, so that probably won't matter.

Mind the dead man, my dear.

Happy birthday,” she said. “And next time? Eat the stupid cupcake.

See? My plans don’t all suck. Just most of them.

I Promise," Shane said. "You'd better, jerkface," Eve said. "How's the head?" "Taped. It's fine, chicks dig scars. Wait, did you just call me jerkface? Are we back in grade school?" "I love you," Eve said. He closed his moth, fast, because obviously that was not what he'd expected. "I, uh, okay, love you too. Can we stop that? It's uncomfortable." "Jerkface." "Much better.

Hey,” Shane said from the other side of the bars. “Trade you cigarettes for a chocolate bar.” Funny,” Eve said. She was almost back to her old unGothed self again, though there were still red splotches on her cheeks and around her eyes. “How come you’re always behind bars, troublemaker?” Look who’s talking. I didn’t try to outrun the cops in a hearse.” That hearse had horsepower.” Eve got that moony look in her eyes again. “I love that hearse.