Xander Quotes

I came up on the screen, too, Cassia. But he was the one you chose to see.

When we fall in love the first time, we don’t know anything. We risk a lot less than we do if we choose to love again. (Xander)

So Caymen..." "So, Xander..." "Like the islands." "What?" "Your name. Caymen. Like the Cayman Islands. Is that your mom's favourite place to visit or something?" "No, it's her third favourite place. I have an older brother named Paris and an older sister named Sydney." "Wow." He opens the bag, takes out a muffin, and hands it to me. The top glistens with sprinkled sugar. "Really?" I gently unwrap it. "No.

Mrs. Spence picks up a roll of toilet paper from the counter and scrunches her nose. “Ask Caymen about that,” Xander says. Great, now I have to explain to his mother about my vandalism? “Your son called me with a toilet paper emergency. I rushed right over.” She looks confused so Xander says, “She’s kidding, Mom.

What are you and Henry going to do tonight anyway?" "My secret," I said, and when I walked around to see the look on her face, I rolled my eyes. "Not that. What are you and Xander going to do?" "That." She gave me an impish look, and I scowled. "What? I'm dead. It's not like it matters anymore.

We'd even devised the Buffy scale of life relationships: you start off wanting Xander, spend your twenties going out with Spike and setttle down with giles.

Being with Ky, being with Xander -both things feel like standing in the light. Different types of light, but neither feels dark.

I'm falling in love. I am in love. and it's not with Xander, though I do love him. I'm sure of that, as sure as I am of the fact what I feel for Ky is something different.

She’s delightfully Machiavellian, and she hates to lose.” Xander was absolutely unapologetic. “I like what that does to my odds.

Xander Knight. Cole Nash. Ronan Astor. Aiden King.

I know you love me. I love you, I always will, but things can't hold like this. They have to break. You say you don't mind, that you will wait for me, but I think that you do mind, and you should. Because we've done too much waiting in our lives, Xander. Don't wait for me anymore. I hope for love for you. I hope for this more than anything else, maybe even more than my own happiness. And in a way, perhaps that means I love Xander best of all.

It’s not exactly easy to save things for the future when the present is so uncertain. (Xander)

Six a.m.!" Xander cried. "I know that's a number on my clock, but I've never actually been awake to personally witness it!

Even in the darkest of times, Xander was Xander. "You're going to drop one of those on your foot," I said. "That's okay," Xander responded cheerfully. "I have two feet!

Xander, don't speak Latin in front of the books.

Nash. Grayson. Jameson. Xander.” He said their names one at a time. “You were the clay, and I was the sculptor, and it has been the joy and honor of my life to make you better men than I will ever be. Men who may curse my name but will never forget it.

What if he hates me?" "No one could possibly hate you, Xander," I told him, my heart twisting. "Avery, people have hated me my whole life." There was something in his tone that made me think that very few people understood what it was like to be Xander Hawthorne. "Not anyone who knows you," I said fiercely. Xander smiled, and something about it made me want to cry. "Do you think it's okay," he said, sounding younger than I'd ever heard him, "that I loved playing those Saturday morning games? Loved growing up here? Loved the great and terrible Tobias Hawthorne?

You’re my friend,” Chris whispered back, and his other hand came up so he could rub Xander’s lower lip with his thumb. “That makes you beautiful.

...but suddenly I hope Xander's right. I hope part of me fell in love with Ky before anyone else told me to.

Xander smiled, and something about it made me want to cry. “Do you think it’s okay,” he said, sounding younger than I’d ever heard him, “that I loved playing those Saturday morning games? Loved growing up here? Loved the great and terrible Tobias Hawthorne?

We do not kiss. We do nothing but hold on and breathe, but still I know. I cannot go gently now. Not even for the sake of my parents, my family. Not even for Xander.

Xander dusted his hands off on his pants. “Secret passage,” he said, then attempted to dust off his pant legs with his hands. “This place is full of them.

Xander is the type of war you never see coming, and when you do, it's already too late.

The first scone is what I like to call the practice scone." Xander stuffed an entire scone in his mouth, handed one to me, then swallowed and continued lecturing. "It is not until the third—nay, fourth—scone that you develop any kind of scone-eating expertise." "Scone-eating expertise," I repeated in a deadpan. "Your nature is skeptical," Xander noted. "That will serve you well in these halls, but if there is one universal truth in the human experience, it is that a finely honed scone-eating palate does not just develop overnight.

Then Xander whispers, "Cassia... if we could choose, would you ever have chosen me?

It's good to know that Xander's here. So that when I go down, she won't be alone. "You walked through the Carving to find me," I tell Cassia softly. "I'm going to walk through this to reach you.

To read makes our speaking English good.

I watched Maximoff Hale on-screen profess his undying love for Power Rangers and excitedly say, 'I hope that if I have a brother or a sister, they'll like Power Rangers too.' Public Fact: Xander Hale is a Power Ranger every year for Halloween.

You don’t have pockets,” she said slowly. “Only abs.” She frowned. “Brothers should not have abs.” “I agree,” Xander said solemnly. “Put on some clothes, man!

Repeat after me, Gray: My feelings are valid.” “Stop talking,” Grayson ordered. “My emotions are real,” Xander continued. “Go on. Say it.” “I’m hanging up on you now.” “Who’s your favorite brother?” Xander called loudly enough that Grayson could still hear him even as he removed the phone from his ear. “Nash,” he answered loudly. “Lies!” Grayson’s phone vibrated. “I’m getting another call,” he told Xander. “More lies!” Xander said happily. “Give my regards to Girl Grayson!” “Good-bye, Xander.” “You said good-b—

Anya: I don't understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean, I knew her, and then she's- There's just a body, and I don't understand why she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore. It's stupid. It's mortal and stupid. And-and Xander's crying and not talking, and-and I was having fruit punch, and I thought, well, Joyce will never have any more fruit punch ever, and she'll never have eggs, or yawn or brush her hair, not ever, and no one will explain to me why.

Xander Harris: "Just when you think you know a guy he robs a mass grave and takes off.

I was born ready!” Xander brandished his shield. He smiled a very Xander Hawthorne smile, then let his bravado falter. “But before we go, group hug?

Your grandfather was a piece of work,” I told Xander. He picked up a fourth scone. “I agree. In his honor, I eat this scone.” He did just that.

It was made with love,” Xander told him. “Just like I tackle with love.” “No tackling,” Nash said.

So,” Libby said sagely, “chess.” “Chess,” I repeated. “The move—it’s called the Queen’s Gambit. Whoever’s playing white puts that second pawn in a position to be sacrificed, which is why it’s considered a gambit.” “Why would you sacrifice a piece?” Libby asked. I thought about billionaire Tobias Hawthorne, about Toby, about Jameson, Grayson, Xander, and Nash. “To take control of the board,” I said.

Eat anything before you started drinking?" Xander asked. "Fuck off." "I can tell that vodka is helping you make great decisions." Javier glared. "Fuck off." "Has your vocabulary been reduced to two words now?" "No. Please fuck off.

I told you, E; we should have brought the explosives,' Xander grumbled underneath his breath in good humor.

That’s my girl!” Xander bellowed. “Woman,” Max corrected. “That’s my woman! In a completely not possessive and absolutely unpatriarchal kind of way!

Don't wait for me anymore. I hope for love for you. I hope for this more than anything else, maybe even more than my own happiness. And in a way, perhaps that means I love Xander best of all.

Nothing but trees.

Because if you can't dream you can't pretend that he's still there

Right then I knew we were feeling the same thing. I knew we loved Cassia, if not exactly the same way, then the same amount. And the amount was: completely.

I don't know...just a feeling, like in..." Xander thought for a moment. "Star Wars. You know, when Han Solo says, 'I've got a bad feeling about this'?

War is the enemy of civilization. We cannot grow through war, Xander. It drags us down, filling our hearts with hatred and thoughts of revenge.

Xander Harris: Hair. Red. Red is good. Fire engines are red. Porsche's are red.

They made love until Chris had to leave for the airport, without sleeping at all. After Chris had left, wearing wrinkled jeans and Xander’s sweat and seed on his skin, Xander flopped back onto the bed and looked miserably at the clock.

Much as I love looking at the stars, I never learned to guide by them. I mark my course by people; Xander, a point in the map, my parents, another point; Ky, the final destination. When Xander moves, the geography of everything changes.

Alright. I'm over on the dark side. You'd better have the cookies I've been promised.

Be lucky, Xander, and be brave. You will find that bravery and luck are often bedfellows.

Xander was looking for me. Not good. Mr. Rich and his completely over-the-top lifestyle need to stay away. “Was he alone?

it's Ky's move. In the quiet before the Ky takes his turn, Xander watches him carefully. Ky's hand hovers over the board. For a moment, as he holds the piece in the air, I see where he could put it to win and I know he sees it, too, that he planned the whole game for that last move. He looks at Xander and Xander looks back, both of them locked in some kind of challenge that seems to run deeper and older than what's happening here on this board. Then Ky moves his hand and puts his piece down in a spot where Xander can eventually overtake him for the win. Ky doesn't hessitate once he places the piece; he sets it down with a solid sound and leans back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. I think I see the slightest hint of a smile on his lips but I can't be sure.

Thank you," I tell Xander. "I didn't get anything for you -" "It's all right," he says, "but maybe - you could -" He looks into my eyes and I know what he wants. A kiss. Even thought he knows about Ky. Xander and I are still connected; this is still good-bye. I know already that that kiss would be sweet. It would be what he would hold on to, as I hold on to Ky's. But that's something I don't think I can give. "Xander -" "It's all right," he was, and then he stands up. I do too, and he reaches for me, pulls me close.

You ready to find out what I can and can’t make you do?" - Xander.

knock knock! I just happened to have my ear pressed to this door. I might have overheard some things, and I have a suggestion!

Xander raised his hand. “Anyone else wondering if we have a secret uncle out there no one knows about? Because at this point, secret uncle just kind of feels like it belongs on the Hawthorne bingo card.

What did you think about?" I wish I could tell him that I thought about him, but I lied to him once and I won't do it again. And besides, I wasn't thinking about Xander either. "I thought about angels," I say. "Angels?" "You know. The ones in the old stories. How they can fly to heaven." "Do you think anyone believes in them anymore?" He asks. "I don't know. No. Do you?" "I believe in you," he says, his voice hushed and almost reverent. "That's more faith than I ever thought I'd have.

Fiddling with damp tarragon left me so intensely irritated that when I was done I had to stick the ramekin/mise en place bowls back in the fridge and go watch both the episode where Xander is possessed by a demon and the one where Giles regresses to his outrageously sexy teen self and has sex with Buffy’s mom, just to get over it.

Gigi took in that info. “I am starting to feel distressingly sober. I think I need another mimosa.” “You got drunk on mimosas?” Nash asked mildly. Gigi held up a single finger. Xander interpreted. “On one mimosa?” “And four cups of coffee,” Gigi admitted.

No one ever expected a Xander Inquisition.

Knock, knock!” Xander stuck his head out the door to the roof. “I just happened to have my ear pressed to this door. I might have overheard some things, and I have a suggestion!

Who's she supposed to be?' The old woman grunted, nodding towards Max. 'That's my friend Max,' Xander replied. 'Your friend max?' I repeated. 'I promised to build her a droid,' Xander said cheerily. 'We're very close now. But that's beside the point.

People are fools. Easily frightened by things they don’t understand. Fear drives them. Makes them hate what they see as strange and new.

Xander looked toward the ceiling. “I love you.” “Thanks, man,” Josy said happily. “I love you too.” “But I don’t like you very much right now.” “Oh. That’s a bummer to hear so soon after the whole love thing.

I should be with Ky in the infirmary. i should be with Xander in prinson. I should be sorting for a cure. can only try to do all three and hope these pieces of myself are enough to find something that can make me whole

Boys", Buffy hissed through clenched teeth, "being quiet is an important part of sneaking." "Oh, sorry", Xander said, reducing his voice to a whisper. "Besides, ritual sacrifice is a religious rite", Giles went on quietly. "They wouldn't sacrifice just anyone at random. It's far more likely they'd suspect you of being a Roman spy scouting for the invasion and just outright kill you". "Oh great! Great! Way to be encouraging Giles. And I suppose you'll just watch that happen, in your Watchery way.

She bends down to kiss him, and his trembling hand reaches for hers, but he can't move it far enough yet. So I lift up his hand and put it on hers. I help him to reach her. For a moment, I'm part of it all. Then I'm just apart.

Aren't you supposed to hate me?" I asked. "I do hate you," Xander replied, happily devouring his third scone. "If you notice, I have kept the blueberry confections for myself and gave you"-he shuddered-"the lemon-flavored scones. Such is the depth of my loathing for you personally and principle.

Reaching and reached. Cassia

Xander could sense more than David's smile. He wished he could be more like that, easygoing. But then, David hadn't seen what Xander had seen.

If I’m talking to patients who can’t answer, why not talk to the port, too? (Xander Markham)

Xander: It could be witches, some evil witches, which is ridiculous cause witched they were persecuted, women power, love the eatrh, and I'll be over here.

Got any cookies?" Grayson asked quietly. "I always have cookies!" Xander disappeared into the suite's kitchen and came back with a half-empty package of double-stuffed Oreos and the single tallest Oreo that Grayson had ever seen. "Octuple-stuffed Oreo?" Xander offered.

If I guess your secret, will you tell me if I'm right?" His father laughed but didn't answer.

I wouldn't have seen the light if she hadn't pointed out, but once sje did, it became impossible to ignore.

For a moment, I'm part of it all. Then I'm just apart

I've found duct tape more effective than advice, myself.

Xander shoots his empty can into a trash bin. “‘Love is the death of duty.’” He quotes Game of Thrones again. “I always figured you’d eventually break the rules for someone you love. I just thought it’d be for Banks.

Xander was no stranger to bad ideas. Or unusual ideas. Or the occasional this-is-either-brilliant-or-an-offense-against-common-sense-and-gravity idea. He was, in fact, a connoisseur of ideas, swishing even the most outlandish possibilities around in his mind and taking a delicate little taste.

Xander let the full extent of his misery show on his face for his mother. She gave his knee a shake, sharing his misery. She was good that way. "Give it some time," she whispered. "You'll make new friends and find new things to do. Wait and see.

Hey…no more dates with people for favors, okay?” “No more dates for favors.” Skylar squeezed Xander’s hand gently. “Can…can I have one with you, though?” Xander’s heart fluttered, grew wings, and sailed lazily into the sky. “You can have as many as you want.

David!" Xander yelled, because he had to yell something. His eyes snapped back to the figure in the upstairs doorway, but it was gone. "What do you want?" David asked. "I...were you just upstairs?" "I haven't looked up there yet." "But I just saw you up there.

Grayson felt his eyes turn to slits. "Not now, Alexander." "Too fresh?" Xander asked. "Sorry, double sorry, triple, up to and including octuple sorry. You needed someone to get you out of your own head, and Nash keeps telling me that there are times when tackling people is inappropriate." "Most times," Nash said. Xander was not so convinced. "Personally, I think tackling is a valid love language, but let's not debate semantics here.

Boys will be boys.” I hate that phrase, the lame excuse for predator behavior.

Avery, did the ever-delightful Thea Calligaris happen to mention that her uncle is married to my aunt?” Zara’s last name was Hawthorne-Calligaris. “I hear Zara and your uncle are looking for ways to challenge the will.” Xander gave every appearance of talking to Thea, but I got the distinct feeling that he was really issuing a warning to me. Don’t trust Thea.

Xander wears a lazy smile—looks bored. As if he sensed me watching, his gaze cuts to me, the smile vanishing from his face. His dark eyes seize hold of me. “Turn around.” My pulse jackknifes against my throat at the deep voice. I look back at Will. His lips barely moved as he speaks. “Trust me. You don’t want to be one of the girls Xander notices. It never goes well for them.” “I’ve hardly spoken to him. I don’t think he—” “I noticed you.” A dark thrill races through me. I wipe damp palms on my jeans. He laughs then. Low and soft. An unhappy sound. “So, yeah. He noticed you.” His lips twist. “Sorry about that.

The way the two of them look at each other is like touching.

Tendrils of mist slithered over the forest floor, around the base of trees. Xander noticed that some of it had climbed the porch pillars and drifted, almost invisibly, over the shingles of the porch roof. It reminded him of an old TV series Dean's dad had bought on DVD: Dark Shadows. It was about a creepy old house and a vampire who lived there. Barnabas, Xander remembered.

But I didn't see it. I believed him unchanging, a stone in all good senses of the word, solid, dependable, something and someone you could build upon. But he is as we all are: light as air, transient as wisps of cloud before the sun, beautiful and fleeting, and if I ever did truly have hold of him, that has ended now.

Skylar captured Xander’s hand, stroking it tentatively as he rested the side of his head against Xander’s. “Kiss me good night?” Xander trembled as Skylar’s fingers made love to his skin, as the heat of Skylar’s body surrounded him, pressing him into the door. Skylar shifted and turned with their touches, and Xander held still, gasping out loud while Skylar kept quiet, focused on undoing Xander. It made him feel vulnerable and exposed, even as he didn’t want Skylar to stop.

That’s what art does. Speaks to deep parts of us, usually ones we can’t access any other way.” He gripped his sandwich tighter as he ground the sticky gears of his manners. “I’m…glad you were able to see yourself in mine.” He ignored the part about the total stranger allegedly wanting to buy his art, assuming it was nothing more than a line. Skylar smiled, not his ting but the gentler one that made something behind Xander’s balls tingle. “Me too.” The smile turned regretful as he rose.

People can see us.” “That’s my hope, yes.” Skylar pulled Xander a little closer to him. “Is that all right?” Xander’s heart felt like a drum, its beats reverberating through his body. “If you claim me in front of my friends?” “If I claim you in front of anyone. Everyone. I like the way it makes you blush. But I also simply like you. And I want everyone to know.” Skylar nuzzled Xander’s hair briefly with his lips. “Is it all right?” Xander melted into his side, shutting his eyes. “Yes. It’s fine.

No,” Xander said, his voice suddenly serious. “But sometimes a person’s brain starts cycling. No matter what you do, the same thoughts just keep repeating, over and over. You get stuck in a loop, and when you’re inside that loop, you can’t see past it. You’ll keep coming up with the same possibilities, to no end, because the answers you need—they’re outside the loop. Distractions aren’t just distractions. Sometimes they can break you out of the loop, and once you’re out, once your brain stops cycling—” “You see the things you missed before.

What did I do to deserve you?” “You told me not to throw away my work. You chased me down and made me open up. Enough to see things I needed to see.” Xander stepped closer and put a hand carefully on Skylar’s hip. “This is how I make love to you, Skylar Stone. I make you take off your clothes and spread your legs for me. I get you to tell me stories of goddesses and turn you into one. I turn your deepest fears into the most beautiful painting I know how to create, and then I stay up all night to give it to you.” He rested his nose on Skylar’s shoulder, nipping him smartly. “The very idea I need to slobber on a body part to do it is insulting.” Without turning around, Skylar found Xander’s hand and laced their fingers tight. “What happens if I tell you that I love you?” Xander shut his eyes, smiling into Skylar’s skin as his heart soared. He squeezed their joined hands tighter. “I’ll tell you that I love you back.

I glance over my shoulder, at the car following close behind us. It’s impossible to see the driver. To tell if it’s Cassian. After a moment, it pulls around and passes us. I sigh. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m abducting you? Should I be on alert for sirens in the rearview mirror?” “I left willingly.” I force a grin and tease, “I don’t think you’ll get arrested.” “Great. You don’t ‘think.’ That’s encouraging.” He gives me a wincing smile. “But maybe not. I am eighteen, after all—” “You’re eighteen? But you’re a sophomore.” An uneasy look passes over his face. “I missed a lot of school a few years back. Half of seventh grade and all of eighth, in fact. I was sick.” “Sick?” I echo. That reminder of his mortality crashes down on me. It’ll always be there, smoke rising between us. Xander had mentioned Will being ill, but I never imagined it as anything serious. “How? I mean, what . . .” He shrugs like it’s nothing, but he won’t glance at me. He stares at the road. “Leukemia. But I’m better now. Completely cured.” “Were you very . . . bad off?” “For about a year. The prognosis wasn’t—” He stops suddenly, like he’s said too much, and I get that sense again. The feeling that he’s not telling me something. That he’s holding back. A muscle in his jaw ripples with tension. “Look, don’t worry about it. Aren’t I a perfect male specimen now?” He sends me a wink. “Don’t I look healthy?” I really didn’t like when I found out that Will was actually 18 years old, instead of the 16 that Jacinda was.

I don’t know who I am.” “You’re Skylar Stone. You’re charming, kind, clever, helpful, beautiful inside and out. You don’t give up. You bring people together, not because you want to use them but because you truly want to help people be better, to build good things. You help people find themselves. Sometimes you lose your way, but at the end of the day, you have a pure heart and the best of intentions. You’re curious, you have drive…” He ran fingers down the slope of Skylar’s neck. “You’re sexy. In ways I didn’t know sexy could be. You’re romantic. You’re attentive, caring, sweet—” Skylar stopped his words with a kiss. It was a simple press of lips. A soft, gentle pressure, the same as it had been the time he’d kissed Xander in the hall. But this time Skylar had so many emotions pent up behind the kiss

Miss me?" she asks with her usual wryness, tossing her backpack on the floor and dropping down on the bed beside me like she comes over all the time. "I feel like a rebel just knowing you. Everyone keeps asking me if you really lit Brooklyn on fire." I arch a brow. "On fire?" Catherine pumps up a pillow beneath her head. "The actual event has gotten a bit exaggerated." Her lips twitch. "Maybe I had something to do with that." "Nice. Thanks." "No problem." "So I guess I'm pretty much done for at school." For the first time, it matters to me. If I'm to stay here and make a go of it, it wouldn't hurt to have a few friends. To not be a social outcast. Especially since it seems pretty important for Tamra's success at school, too. "Are you kidding? You're a hero." Her lips twist with a smile. "I think you've got a shot at homecoming queen next fall." I give a short laugh, and then her words sink. Next fall. Might I be here then? With Will? It's almost too sweet to believe. "So," Catherine beings, picking at the loose paper edging my spiral. "Rutledge was absent today." "Yeah?" I try for nonchalance. "Yeah." She stretches the word, her blue-green eyes cutting meaningfully into mine. "And his cousins were around, so he's not off somewhere with them. I wonder..." She cocks her head, her long, choppy bangs, sliding low across her forehead. "Wherever could he have been?" I shrug and pick at the flaking tip of my pencil. She continues, "I know where Xander thinks he was." My gaze swings back to her face. "Xander talked to you?" "I know, right? Can my days as a pariah be coming to an end?" "Where does he think Will was?" "With you, of course.

Skylar laughed a lot in these scenes. He was happy. He was always helping people too—a whole section depicted him playing hero to the art majors as they gazed at him adoringly, and Xander glowered jealously on the sidelines. That made Skylar laugh in real life. There were so many scenes of him helping people. He was Mr. Friendly, according to Xander. This was such a better painting. This was how Xander saw him? This was beautiful. This is who I want to be instead. “I love this,” Skylar said as Xander cleaned his brush. “Oh, I’m not done.” Xander got out a small round brush and reached for the pink. He began to paint delicate, beautiful cherry blossoms all over Skylar’s body. There was writing too—Xander explained each kanji to him, that they meant he was magnificent, sensitive, sensual, artistic, charming, loyal, steadfast—he lost track of the words because while they were wonderful and the script breathtaking, it was the blossoms that did him in. He sees me as a cherry tree. A blooming, beautiful cherry tree. Skylar sobbed. “I love you,” Skylar cried, trying not to spill tears because Xander was painting cherry blossoms across his face. “I love you too, my sakura.

Want a sandwich?” Mac shook her head. “I’m going to have dinner with Gage when he gets home.” Who said anything about dinner? This was more like an appetizer. That was another perk that came with being a werewolf. She could eat whatever she wanted and not have to worry about extra calories ending up where they shouldn’t. Khaki set everything on the counter. “I asked Xander flat-out when I went over to his place last night. He insisted he liked me just fine, but I knew he was lying. I could tell he was really uncomfortable around me. He was tense and on edge the whole time. Which is nothing new. He’s like that all the time around me. I think he finds me irritating and a nuisance.” Mac gave her a dubious look. “If you say so. But either way, you’d better be careful. If being with Gage has taught me anything, it’s that werewolves are extremely affected by certain pheromones. If you go walking around lusting over Xander, he’s going to pick up on it— and so is every other guy on the team. Then things will get really complicated. I learned that the hard way. Those guys can pick up on arousal like it’s barbecue and they aren’t shy about letting you know it.” Khaki groaned as she grabbed a plate from the cabinet. “Oh, God. I never thought about that.” “Yeah. And it gets worse.” Mac shook her head. “If I’m even slightly aroused and Gage picks up on it, he gets crazy horny— like he-can’t-control-it horny. What do you think is going to happen to if all the guys on the team pick up on the fact that the one and only female werewolf on the team is aroused? You’ll find yourself getting chased by fifteen out-of-control, horny werewolves going crazy with lust. And while there are some women who might find that entertaining, something tells me you wouldn’t.” Khaki set the plate on the counter with a thud. “Oh, crap. What the hell am I going to do?” Mac offered her a small smile. “Take a lot of baths?

So what's the deal with you and my sister?" He laughs shortly and rubs the back of his neck like something is there, tickling, tapping. "Tamra." Clutching the dashboard, I turn and glare at her. "There is no deal." She snorts. "Well, we wouldn't be sitting here if that was the case now, would we?" I open my mouth to demand she end the interrogation when Will's voice stops me. "I like your sister. A lot." I look at him dumbly. He looks at me, lowers his voice to say, "I like you." I know that, I guess, but heat crawls over my face. I swing forward in my seat, cross my arms over my chest and stare straight ahead. Can't stop shivering. Can't speak. My throat hurts too much. "Jacinda," he says. "I think you've shocked her," Tamra offers, then sighs. "Look, if you like her, you have to make it legit. I don't want everyone at school whispering about her like she's some toy you get your kicks with in a stairwell." Now I really can't speak. My blood burns. I already have one mother doing her best to control my life. I don't need my sister stepping in as mother number two. "I know," he says. "That's what I'm trying to do now-if she'll let me." I feel his gaze on the side of my face. Anxious. Waiting. I look at him. A breath shudders from me at the intensity in his eyes. He's serious. But then he would have to be. If he's willing to break free of his self-imposed solitude for me, especially when he suspects there's more to me than I'm telling him...he means what he's saying. His thumbs beat a staccato rhythm on the steering wheel as he drives. "I want to be with you, Jacinda." He shakes his head. "I'm done fighting it." "Jeez," Tamra mutters. And I know what she means. It seems too much. The declaration extreme. Fast. After all, we're only sixteen... I start, jerk a little. I think he's sixteen. I don't even know. I don't know anything about him other than his secret. That sort of eclipses everything else. But he has to be more. More than the secret. More than a hunter. More than a boy who doesn't want to be a force of destruction. More than the boy who saved my life. The boy I've built a fantasy around. I don't know the real him. Xander mentioned Will being sick, and I don't even know what happened to him. But then I don't feel bad about that for long. Because he doesn't know the real me either. And yet he still wants to be with me. Maybe it's perfect because I want to be with him, too. And not just because I need to get close to him and use him for information. Although there is that. Something I would like to forget but can't let myself. Forgetting is resigning myself to a life here. Forever. As a ghost. A small voice whispers through me, a tempting thought... Not if you have Will.