Nora: This Is Crazy. Patch: I'm Crazy.

I Took Three Steps Back; He Nudged The Door Closed With His Foot. “you Like Mexican?” He Asked. “i—” I’d Like To Know What You’re Doing Inside My House! “tacos?” “tacos?” I Echoed. This Seemed To Amuse Him. “tomatoes, Lettuce, Cheese.” “i Know What A Taco Is!

You Didn’t Tell Me She Was So Soft On The Eyes,” He Said To Patch, Wiping His Mouth With The Back Of His Hand. He Spoke With A Heavy Irish Accent. “i Didn’t Tell Her How Hard You Are On Them Either,” Patch Returned, His Mouth At The Relaxed Stage Just Before A Grin.

His Eyes Made A Slow Scan Of My Closet Doors, Which Were Cracked. “i Thought I Heard Something.” “yeah, Well, Guess What? I’m A Living, Breathing Person, And Every Now And Then I Make Noise!

I Need To Brush My Teeth. And I Need A Shower." He Grinned, Hopping Off The Bike. "now That Is An Invitation.

I Don't Go Out With Strangers," I Said. "good Thing I Do. I'll Pick You Up At Five.