You strutted back and forth to the window at Fulsham’s Custard Stand five times while I was sitting there, eatin’ my cone the first time I saw you, ‘cause you wanted some of this and got it by swinging your ass in my face.

“What you need to give me is to know it is not about you, it’s about me, you got…”

“These boys talk more than a pack ofwomen.”

“I like that, he said quietly, his voice back to silk. What? I whispered. You sa…”

“Honey,” I called and his head came up. “You have a monster too.”“I did. My woma…”