...five Minutes From Now, When Everything Else

Hang On, Did You Just Call Me Angel?” I Asked. “if I Did?” “i Don’t Like It.” He Grinned. “it Stays. Angel.” He Leaned Across The Table, Raised His Hand To My Face, And Brushed His Thumb Along One Corner Of My Mouth. I Pulled Away, Too Late.

Your Name?” I Repeated, Hoping It Was My Imagination That My Voice Faltered. “call Me Patch. I Mean It. Call Me

You Find The Wrong Boy, You Ask For Trouble. You Find The Right Boy, You Find Love.

And Here I Thought They Were Called Peeping Toms." I Didn't Need To See Him To Know He Wore A Smile. "stop Laughing," I Said, My Cheeks Hot With Humiliation. "get Me Down." "jump." "what?" "i'll Catch You." "are You Crazy? Go Inside And Open The Window. Or Get A Ladder." "i Don't Need A Ladder. Jump. I'm Not Going To Drop You.

I Gave A Relenting Sigh. "fine! I'll Throw On Some Clothes. Turn Around. I'm In My Pj's." Pj's That Consisted Of Nothing But A Tank Top And Boy Shorts--an Image I Didn't Want To Sear Into Scott's Mind. Scott Smiled. "i'm A Guy. That's Like Asking A Kid Not To Glance At The Candy Counter." Ugh. The Dimple In His Cheek Deepened. And It Was Not In Any Way Cute... Pg 196