We aren't friends.

She couldn't help it - she flinched. One of them had clearly misunderstood whatever was between them. Apparently, it had been her. Etta charged away from him down the sidewalk. He caught up to her in three long strides and took her arm in his hand, forcing her to stop. She couldn't bring herself to look up; she only waited for Nicholas to speak.

I don't care about the rules or anyone else. People are awful - they're idiots - and if they try to hurt you, I won't need the revolver. I care about you and all I ask is that you try not to make me feel like an idiot for it. You're supposed to . . . you're my partner.

Don't you dare call me Miss Spencer, it kills me when you act like we aren't friends.

I forget myself with you. I forget the rules. I forget every other living soul in this would. Do you understand?