I had an accident." "That seemes to happen a lot." "It wasn't my fault." "It never is." "I just have bad luck." "Or you're just trouble." "You got a problem with that?" "No problem at all." "Oh my God! Are you going to help or not?

Sex had been amazing, but it wasn't a magical cure for everything. Damn. Somewhere along the way, I'd picked up common sense.

Aw you'd never hurt me. My face is too pretty. -Adrian Ivashkov

I'm sorry." "Be sorry you lied," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Don't be sorry you loved him. That's part of you, part you have to let go, yeah, but still something that's made you who you are.

I need it! I need it! It's a royal heirloom!" "Adrian?" "What are you doing here?" "Looking for you. Come on, we need to go. I'll drive you home." "No, I can't. Not until we get it. He stole it!

I knew you were a badass," continued Adrian. "But I didn't realize just how much until I saw you dropping guardians out there." "Does that mean you're going to be nicer to me?" I teased. "I'm already nice to you," he said loftily. "Do you know how badly I want a cigarette right now? But no. I manfully suffer through nicotine withdrawal—all for you.

We’re suckers for this, Sydney. Men. You’ve got me completely helpless right now. You’re so beautiful and alluring, and we guys can’t help ourselves. We fight wars for you, cajole you . . . and you put up with us. We have it easy here in bed.” She turned my face toward hers. “This wasn’t exactly difficult for me.” “But we still have it easy. You’re the strength, the pillars . . . our defenders, our children’s defenders.