He exhaled loudly and raked a hand through the sable brown hair he always kept stylishly messy. "Look, Rose. You don’t have to keep up with the hard-to-get thing. You’ve already got me.

I thought Alchemists avoided alcohol the same way they do primary colors.

Rose,” he said, forcibly trying to keep a serious tone, “I can think of many words to describe you, sexy and hot being at the top of the list. You know what’s not on the list? Sane.

Can you come over to Amberwood? I need you to help me break curfew and escape my dorm.” There were a few moments of silence. “Sage, I’ve been waiting two months to hear you say those words. You want me to bring a ladder?

My commentary's hilarious, not witty.

I disconnected as a sleepy Seth stepped out of the bedroom. “Who’s Dante? Was that a collect call to the Inferno?” “They won’t accept the charges,” I murmured.

I’d been raised to be practical and keep my emotions in check, but I loved cars. That was one of the few legacies I’d picked up from my mom. She was a mechanic, and some of my best childhood memories were of working in the garage with her.