“Are you avoiding me, Gorgeous?”

“I… What are you doing here?”

I look at Rory, and the worry that comes over her face when she sees me. Her question is the exact same one I asked myself as I walked to her door. I dropped my boy off at school and instead of going home, doing anything else… I came to Rory. I did this because I want her, because she’s fucking gorgeous, she takes no shit from anyone and because on the phone a week ago, I had a glimpse of something sweet in her. I’m also doing it because since I spoke to her on the phone and the scene the next morning…I haven’t heard a peep from her. I mean that literally. The woman has either moved from her bedroom and sleeping on the couch, or she’s going through great pains to be extremely quiet.

The only reason she would be doing this is to hide from me. I should let her, and for a week I almost did. Then, last night she invaded my dreams. That hasn’t happened to me—as in ever. I can’t get her laugh out of my head, I want to hear more of it. I can’t get her smile out of my head either. I want her lips. I want to taste them and after last night’s dream I want them wrapped around my cock. And once they are… I want to know if they feel as good as they do in my dreams.

“I came here to prove something to you.”

“I… What?” she asks. Her green eyes dilate and I know that she understands what is coming next.

She’s just as beautiful as I remembered. That thick wavy head of hair reminiscent of Julia Roberts in the eighties. Her hair has tortured me. I want it wrapped in my hands, wrapped around my cock… Jesus, I crave this woman.

“You’ve been trying to hide from me, Rory.”

“You’re full of yourself F.A.”

“The name is …” Fuck. I almost slipped up and told her my name was Diesel. “Noah,” I say instead, waiting for her to react.

It doesn’t take long.

“Just tell me what you want and leave. I have shit to do,” she grumbles, her eyes refusing to meet mine.

“You.”

“What?” she asks, obviously confused.

“You, Rory. That’s what I want.”

“Right. I don’t have time for this bullshit, F.A.”

She goes to close the door and I slap my hand against it, stopping her.

“Noah,” I growl, walking in and closing her door behind me.

“You need to leave, Noah,” she orders, hands on her hips, and looking far too appealing for my sanity.

“Answer a question first.”

“I can’t believe you,” she says shaking her head.

“Are you going to answer?”

“Will you leave if I do?” she asks, bringing her hands back to her chest and crossing them as if daring me to pin them behind her back and make her take my kiss.

“Maybe,” I shrug, having no intention of leaving until I get a taste of her.

“Fine. Ask your damn question.”

“Why did you move out of your bedroom?”

“Seriously?”

“I just asked the question, Gorgeous. I’m pretty damn sure you can tell I’m serious,” I mutter and watch as she gets even more pissed.

I shouldn’t enjoy it, but I’m an asshole and looking like she does, it’s a fucking good show.

“Get out of my house,” she yells, her face red with anger.

“You don’t want that,” I tell her.

“Oh, I do. I’ve had enough of you, Noah. You give me whiplash. I can’t handle your bipolar moods. One minute I think you’re a nice guy and the next you’re such an asshole that it’s epic and trust me when I tell you, F.A., I’ve been around major assholes!”

She delivers her words one right after the other, not taking a breath, instead embracing her anger and letting it fly.

“My fucking name is, Noah,” I growl, moving into her body. She backs away from me and keeps doing it until she’s against the wall.

It’s not a nice thing to do—especially since I know her history. I do it anyway and maybe there’s a large part of me that expects her to back down and cower. Rory doesn’t do that however. She plants her hands against my chest and she pushes. I don’t move, but I will give her an A for effort.

“Back the fuck away,” she yells back. She brings her knee up to hit me in the balls. I manage to block that and trap her leg by a firm grip with my hand. My other hand locks around her wrist to pull her arm above her head.

“Not happening, Rory. Now tell me why you moved out of your bedroom,” I order, my voice quiet against her ear, but forceful just the same.

“I didn’t,” she argues, but she’s a liar.

“Look me in the eye, Rory.”

“Kiss my ass, Noah.”

“With pleasure, but not right now. Right now, we’re having this out.”

“There’s nothing to have out. You’re an asshole and I’m tired of your shit. We’re neighbors and we’ll be neighbors that never talk because you’re an asshole. That’s as worked out as we need to be!”

“Woman you can’t get pissed at me because I don’t want you around my son, I’ve never made a secret of the fact I didn’t want you near him.”

My words cause her body to jerk.

“I was wrong,” she whispers.

“Wrong?” I ask and I know she might not like what I’m saying, but I don’t understand why she’s acting this way or what is going through her head.

“You aren’t an asshole. You’re just plain cruel,” she says, again whispering.

“Come again?”

“What’s wrong with me? I’m a good person, Noah. I know you just met me, but I love kids. I’d be nice to Ryan. He’s sweet and he’s sweet to me and—”

“And he’s mine, Rory. Mine. I am his father and I decide who I let into my child’s life. I decide and you don’t know me. You don’t know Ryan. But, I do. He’s been hurt by people who were supposed to care for him. You aren’t even one of those people, but my boy is soft and the world hasn’t hardened him up yet and you could get that power over him. I don’t want you to and that means I’m shielding him.”

“You can’t shield him from everything, Noah,” she says thoughtfully.

“I know that, Gorgeous,” I tell her and suddenly I’m feeling a hell of a lot older than I am. “God help me, I know that more than anyone,” I tell her, my voice raw. I let go of her and step back a space, giving us both air.

Air where I don’t breathe in her scent.

“Broken,” she whispers and I look up at her to find her staring at my face… softly.

“What?” I ask, and for the first time ever I think I might be afraid of a woman.

She cups the side of my face, her hand soft, even against my beard. Her fingers feel like they brand my skin.

“We’re all broken, Noah,” she responds, leaning into me.

“Don’t think you can fix me, Rory,” I warn her.

“Maybe I don’t want to,” she says right before she leans in to kiss me.

It’s a soft kiss and I take it, exploring her mouth slowly and not really taking complete control, letting her continue that path because it’s nice, because she’s in my arms filling them and because I like that she’s there.

And maybe because she’s right.

We are broken.