Alec gives a little scoff. "Nah... just found it with a bunch of other writings once. I don't know why I remembered it. No real point - just fills my brain with useless content."
The tennis ball bounces off the wall a few more times. "Though I suppose it comes in handy when women seem to like that sort of thing." He stops playing with the ball and looks at Ryan again. "You're different. Cars, grease and adrenaline rushes. One thing that always fascinated me though, was discovering that despite the outside, all women have a soft middle and a weakness for TLC and a good poem."
Alec pauses, wondering at his own talking. He didn't want to talk to anybody. He'd been downright stubborn about it and wouldn't even talk to Hope anymore, other than spouting off in anger. But all anyone ever did was yell at him anyway, ordering him around. Ryan was... different. She'd come because she'd wanted to, not because she had to. And knowing that dragged to the surface that natural desire to communicate and interact. No matter how cold Alec was, he was still human. Somewhere, way down deep, he still desired companionship.
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