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books?”
    “Maybe. Some of them are rather thick.”
    He chuckled as he continued down the stairs, disappearing from sight.
    “Later Roxy .”
    I shut the door and flicked the locks, finding that my misbehaving feet were wandering back to the study. Then my dastardly fingers turned off the light, in cahoots with my feet who slipped along the bookcase.
    There was no way that I was watching him in the darkness, it was an absolute lie. Somehow he knew. Even though the lights were off, when he was half way across the street he turned back slightly and looked up at the window. Then he waved. I wanted to die from embarrassment. Caught watching him. How sad.

Chapter Six
     
    Lacking in sleep meant that I wasn't functioning properly. Archer and his mates had gone all night with their little drinking fest which included music, laughing, more glass breaking and at three am, the sound of several motorcycles leaving.
    Bleary eyed I thumped my way down the stairs and crossed the road, needing to vent my tired anger at my new neighbor.
    By the time he finally answered the door my hand was sore from knocking on it.
    Archer looked just as tired as I did, worse yet he was in a pair of jeans and nothing else. I might have been tired but I wasn't blind. Or crazy. So I might have liked the view, I could be honest and say that he could be any month of the year in one of those hot guy calendars. Maybe he could be mister December and offer himself with a neatly wrapped bow that was just covering the essentials.
    A small bow. Maybe it could be too small and accidentally show something. Screw the bow, it's December. Christmas gift and all, right?
    What was I thinking? I was crazy. Not with the neighbor, end of subject.
    Archer was defined, taut and not as tattooed as I expected. I thought he'd be covered in them but there was only a few. The tattoos that looked like they only went to sleeve length was actually intentional. It was just where the image ended.
    His chest was covered in an image of angels wings, sitting in front was a massive skull. Beneath the massive image was a silhouette side view of several motorcycles as if they were riding along with words written in script below. Too fast to live, too young to die.
    As he leaned on the door, Archer crossed his arms over his chest, his hands slipping under them which marred the view of his tattoo. It might have been before I saw too much, because I did happen to notice there was a name on one of the feathers over his heart. A name that was now hidden by his thumb.
    Those weary eyes wandered down me and it was at that point that I looked down to what I was wearing. Another fine moment in the history of my life. Tiny bed shorts and a singlet top. Oh and no bra. An excellent combination when I did in fact have a lot to offer.
    Suddenly it became a whole lot colder and I crossed my arms over my chest in a vain attempt at hiding my chest.
    “Hey Roxy, how's it going?”
    His tired and amused grin was a little annoying. I was not in the mood for the horrid name calling either.
    “It's Faith, I told you that.”
    “Sure thing Roxy. ”
    Archer scratched along the waistband of his jeans, catching my gaze which I knew was intentional.
    “You kept me awake last night and I'm sure the neighborhood is not really impressed at your friends leaving at three am. Don't those things have noise suppression or something?”
    He baulked at me, eyes wide as he scoffed a laugh.
    “Good luck convincing them to do that one.”
    “Whatever.” I said as I flicked my hand with derision. “Not sure if you were aware of it but this is actually an area where people live normal lives, they work and obviously need sleep. You know, keeping normal hours. So I get that it was a Saturday night but just in case you're planning on another little shindig tonight you need to remember those of us who keep sane hours.”
    “Shindig?” He said with a chuckle. “How old are you Roxy?”
    “Faith and I'm