That’s the last time you’re going to kiss me,” I warned when it ended. He smiled knowingly, and in his eyes, I could see his own memories of that night. “So you say.

It was one thing to accept I couldn't have Dimitri. It was something entirely different to realize someone else could.

Weirdly, an image of Adrian’s Love painting came back to me. I thought of the jagged red streak, slashing through the blackness, ripping it apart. Staring at Jill and her inconsolable pain, I suddenly understood his art a little bit better.

My name's Jet Steele.

I shook my head and turned away, unable to hear this. “I’m leaving now. I really don’t want to see you again. Nothing personal. Well, yeah, actually it is.

Now I see some family resemblance. I was starting to wonder if Jill was adopted, but you two kind of look like each other." "So does our mailman back in North Dakota," said Adrian.

Oh, so that's why you're up here. For a pity party." "This isn't a joke. I'm serious." I could tell Lissa was getting angry. It was trumping her earlier distress. He shrugged and leaned casually against the sloping wall. "So am I. I love pity parties. I wish I'd brought the hats. What do you want to mope about first? How it's going to take you a whole day to be popular and loved again? How you'll have to wait a couple weeks before Hollister can ship out some new clothes? If you spring for rush shipping, it might not be so long.