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“Don’t have time,” she grumbles for the millionth time.

When the shock wears off from seeing her,yet again,I decide I don’t believe her today.

“What are you in such a hurry to do at home on a Tuesday night?” I ask out of plain curiosity.

She stops for a single beat, so fast that I almost doubt if I saw the hesitation at all.

“Nothing that’s your business.”

That’s fair.

“Feeling gracious enough to let me sleep through the night tonight? Maybe you could turn the volume down for once?”

“No,” she simply replies.

“Sounds about right,” I sigh.

When her back is fully facing me, I let my eyes linger on every detail they can. Her hair is split into two ponytails that fall down her back. She’s wearing a cropped crewneck sweater, and a pair of black skinny jeans. I’m not proud of checking out her ass, but Ican’t bring myself to look away until she’s gone inside. I’ve never seen one so perky.

I bet she does squats for fun.

Her next note shows up the morning after.

Can you stop cornering me when I get home at night? It’s getting creepy.

Corneringher? I barely even talk to the woman, so it is beyond me why that’s the conclusion she’s come to. For the most part, I’ve minded my business and barely even looked her way. It’s not my fault that I don’t have a back porch to utilize for my fresh air.

Creepy?! I live here. This is my front porch. I’ve been sitting on it since long before you showed up.

When I go to put it in the usual place, I’m startled by the door opening in front of me. How in the world did we go weeks without seeing each other, and now she won’t stop popping up? I’m over it.

I think it’s the first time I’m seeing her without any makeup, and it changes nothing about my attraction to her. It softens up her face, making her look nicer.

Well, it would if she wasn’t scowling. She looks disgusted to see me here, so that’s agreatfeeling.

“What are you doing?” she snaps.

I wave the note in front of her face, pretending I’m not affected by her attitude.

“How else am I supposed to get this to you? I don’t have an assistant to do my bidding for me.”

“Your bidding?” she asks. Then she shakes her head, not wanting to know apparently. “Leave me alone.”

My jaw drops.

“It takes two to tango, I’m not the only one with a pen and paper here.”

“You started it, and I’m ending it. Stay away from me,” she demands.

If this little wrench hadn’t been thrown in my plan, she would’ve read my note and known that I’m not going to cower in my apartment just because she doesn’t want to see me.

“Stop playing music at night.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Nope.”

Then she shoulder checks me– more like shoulderslamsme– to get me out of her way. I stumble back and watch and she pulls her front door closed and locks it.