'Didn't realize Matty was so scary,' Chris said. 'She's maybe five two and can't make it up a flight of stairs without huffing and puffing. But if I really pissed her off, she might poison my coffee.' 'Sounds like someone I'd like to meet.'

'We're not... we haven't been writing poetry and sprinkling rose petals and tripping hand in hand under rainbows, Kay.' 'Just because you have Y chromosomes doesn't mean you can't tell each other how you feel, Dylan. Your penises won't fall off if you do.'

'It's not you, it's me.' 'Oh God. That's exactly what my last three boyfriends said when they dumped me. Is it in the Y-Chromosome User's Manual or something?' He grinned. 'On page five. But, you know, don't tell anyone I told you.'

'And I promise not to keep assuming that living in the sticks means you're inbred trailer trash if you'll stop supposing that I'm an asshole just because I grew up in a place big enough for traffic lights.' A hint of a smile played at the corner of Chris's mouth. 'Can I still think you're an asshole for other reasons?'

You're such a romantic. Just like your brother. Do you know what he bought for me for our last anniversary? A knife sharpener.