That’s it. I’ve had enough. There’s a limit to my patience, and I’ve reached it.

Numbers flash on the screen of the laptop in front of me. I have big decisions to make, but the ruckus from next door is making it impossible for me to concentrate. I thought I was going to get some peace and quiet by moving to a small town in the middle of fucking nowhere.

What the fuck is happening there? Who throws a house party on a Wednesday night?

It’s definitely not a public holiday tomorrow. And I know for a fact that my next-door neighbor is a teacher, so tomorrow is definitely a work day for her.

I’ve burned Jessica’s schedule onto my memory. I check the windows whenever I hear the engine of her beat-up white Toyota. I watch her come and I watch her go.

Like me, she’s an outsider. If I know my small towns—and I think I do—it’s a pretty big feat to be accepted by the locals. I guess being a teacher has its advantages. Definitely more advantages than being a stripper.

Unlike Jessica, I prefer to not have anybody’s nose in my business. It’s for my own benefit, but it’s also for everybody else’s good, considering my anger management problems.

After the cold way Jessica treated me last week when I rescued her from her little car trouble, I thought she was a recluse just like me. But apparently not. I don’t know why I ever thought she’d treat everybody the way she treats me.

I take a deep breath. I need to calm down.

My temper has gotten me into trouble too many times before. That’s why I prefer to minimize contact with the outside world. Unfortunately, sometimes the outside world insists on initiating contact with me.

I get up from my chair with my fists balled up, the muscles in my arms tensing.

When I see her, I know the blood is going to rush to my groin and make it even more difficult for me to think clearly. I know this because just peeking at her through the blinds gets me rock hard and straining painfully against my pants.

But I can’t just sit here and wait for them to stop making noise. Who knows how long that’ll take?

Meanwhile, my laptop screen tells me I’m missing out on some great opportunities.

No, this can’t wait.

With my heart pounding in my chest, I walk out the door. Somehow this feels more intimidating than going out on a mission. Deadly encounters don’t scare me; I used to face life-and-death situations every damn day in the Navy SEAL.

But talking to my sexy-as-hell neighbor while anger courses through my veins? Yeah, that’s not something I’m used to.

When the door opens, Jessica greets me with a saccharine smile. “Oh! Hi, Jacob. Are you here to join us?”

Join ‘us?’ Who is she talking about and why would I be joining them? Why is she being so weirdly friendly tonight?

She looks good enough to eat. I can see the outline of her bra through her thin white T-shirt, which hangs just an inch above the waist of her jeans, revealing a tantalizing sliver of creamy skin.

A few strands of her short hair stick out and catch the light from the pot lights above her head. It’s warm inside and I can smell chocolate wafting out into the chilly night air. For a moment, I consider accepting her invitation.

But the murmur of conversations drifting out from behind her changes my mind. There’s nothing I’d like more than to see the inside of Jessica’s home, maybe check out her bedroom and spend a few hours rolling between her sheets, but I don’t really want to have anything to do with other people.

Besides, I’m here on a mission.

“No.” I furrow my brows to force myself to concentrate. The wood of the deck creaks as I shift my weight from one foot to another. She’s so damn distracting. “Can you just keep it down?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were being loud.”

“Well, you are.” My voice sounds more gruff and unfriendly than I meant it to. I decide to stick to short sentences. “I’m trying to work.”

“I’m sorry,” Jessica says unapologetically. I watch, hypnotized, as the words come out of her mouth. It’s taking all my willpower to not push her against the wall and capture those pink, full lips. I turn my head to the side to stop myself from staring. She says, “Most people don’t work at night. What kind of work do you do?”

I can’t promise her I’ll behave if she continues to tempt me with her luscious curves. I’m already wondering if she tastes like chocolate, like the way her whole house smells.

Seriously, I need to get back to work.

“It’s none of your business,” I finally say. I don’t want to get into a long-ass explanation. But as soon as I look back at her, I realize it’s the wrong thing to say. The spark in her eyes turns into a flash of anger. Looks like she has a short fuse.

“You know, that’s not a very…neighborly thing to say.” Jessica is frowning now, shallow lines appearing on her forehead. “You wake me up in the middle of the night with that damn motorcycle of yours but you don’t hear me complaining.”

“I’m sor—“

“I mean, thank you so much for fixing my car,” Jessica says, cutting me off. “But that doesn’t mean you can come here and be rude to me. That doesn’t give you the right to say whatever you want.”

This is not turning out the way I was hoping it would. I don’t feel like I’ve done anything wrong here, aside from moving in next door—which, I’ll admit, is a bit of an asshole move, but whatever. It’s not illegal to rent a house.

If Jessica doesn’t like the noise of my engine, she can always knock on my door and tell me to do something about it. I never knew she had a problem with it, so how was I supposed to do anything? Does she expect me to read her mind?

Despite the anger growing inside me, I decide to just apologize so I can get back to my work for now. I can always talk to her again, seeing as she’s my neighbor now.

“Listen.” I take a deep, calming breath. “I’m sorry about the motorcycle noise. I didn’t come here to fight. I just want some peace and quiet, okay? I’m not asking you to repay me for saving you or something ridiculous like that.”

“Oh. Now I’m being ridiculous, am I?” Despite my apology, Jessica’s voice only becomes more high-pitched. In a loud whisper meant to avoid attention from her guests, she says, “I’ll have you know that I’m a reasonable person. Just ask anybody in here! Oh wait, that’s right, you still don’t know anybody in town. Well, maybe if you weren’t so rude you’d actually have friends.”

Fuck, I thought I was the one with the anger problem.

I’d love to tell her that yes, I definitely think she’s being ridiculous.

Despite her obvious fury, I’m finding the whole situation comical. So I laugh, which only makes Jessica glare at me harder, if that’s even possible.

“I don’t care about having friends, but I’ll try to be more…’neighborly.’” I make air quotes with my fingers and shoot her a smirk. “Now, can you please ask your friends to keep it down so I can work? I’ll try to do something about the motorcycle noise. Okay? Thank you and good night, neighbor.”

Right before I turn around to walk away, I catch a glimpse of her jaw dropping.

I can tell Jessica remains frozen in place by the slice of warm light coming out from the gap in the door where she’s standing, too mad to say or do anything.