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Maybe you're not his type. Michael said Oh, now you're just being insulting.

Rachel Caine

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Rachel Caine
Age: 58 †
Born: 1962
Born: April 27
Died: 2020
Died: November 1
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
the United States of America
Julie Fortune
Roxanne Longstreet Conrad
Roxanne Longstreet
Roxanne Conrad
Insulting
Michael
Type
Maybe

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I’m taking off my shoes.’’ ‘‘Fine. Shoes off.’’ ‘‘And my pants.’’ ‘‘Don’t push it, Claire.
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He started to touch the mechanism under the keyboard, then pulled his hand back with a snap. Ah, he said. Must deactivate the security....Turn around, please. What? Turn around, Claire. It's a secure password! You have GOT to be kidding. Why ever would I joke about that? Please turn.
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She smells better, Claire said. And she made me cookies.
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Shane looked faintly injured. “I make it my business to know everything about silver. And I saw your notes. I study up on everything when it comes to your boss, anyway.” There was a flicker of jealousy about that, but she didn’t have time, or energy, to consider it very much. Not even whether or not she liked it.
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Oh, he is cute!” Shane said in a fake girly voice. “Gee, maybe we can ask him out!” “Shut up, you weasel. Claire, hit him!
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Don’t,” Michael said. It was soft, and it was a warning, through and through. “You try to hurt her again and I’ll pull your arm off.
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Girl, it's an umbrella, not a Lamborghini.
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Am I not ninja enough? Are you saying that I lack ninja?
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You look like a Goth factory exploded all over you! he called as she ran down the hall. Love you, too, jackass!
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Your father's an asshole. It's not a disease. You don't have to catch it.
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You are not my high school crush, idiot.” “Great. I can die happy, then.
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Boys. I'd turn gay if they weren't so sexy.
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Trav, if you cross us -- I know. You'll get me. I'll try not to pee all over myself in terror.
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I think we can all agree. SHINEY.
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She looked back to see Sam standing there at the edge of the strip of sunlight inside Common Grounds, staring after her with an expression on his face like he'd lost his best- his only friend.
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If you ask me if I'm okay again, I'm going to smack myself in the face just to punish you.
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Michael patted him on the shoulder. “I like this plan,” he said. “You and Eve, picking up cake and flowers, and you can’t even say a word. Should be tons of fun.” Shane almost choked, and gave Michael a sideways glare. Michael sent him a hundred-watt smile in return—no fangs, which was probably for the best.
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Survival, I said softly. It's selfish, and it's dark, and we've always been a species willing to do anything to satisfy our needs. Individuals have morals. Mobs have appetites.
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Science is a method, not a religion, yet it can be just as close-minded. Open minds here Claire. Always open minds. Question everything, accept nothing as fact until you prove it for yourself.
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Knowing Myrnin, there could be anything inside, from a body he'd forgotten about to his dirty laundry.
Rachel Caine