“You could start a fire with the heat between you two.""You're mistaking bitter animosity for heartfelt affection.”

“You're mistaking bitter animosity for heartfelt affection.”

“How did you get my number?" I blurted, before I could stop myself."It's called research." I could hear him smirking over the phone."Or stalking."Noah chuckled. "You're adorable when you're bitchy.""You're not," I said, but smiled despite myself.”

“You like me,” he finally said. “You like me, like me.” He was trying not to smile.“No. I hate you,” I said, hoping that saying it would make it so.“And yet, you draw me.” Noah was still smug, completely undeterred by my declaration.This was torture; worse somehow than what just happened, even though it was only the two of us. Or because it was only the two of us.“Why?” he asked.“Why what?” What could I say? Noah, despite you being an asshole, or maybe because of it, I’d like to rip off your clothes and have your babies. Don’t tell.”

“Mara, if you're tired, I can hear it. If you're hurt, I can feel it. And if you lie, I will know it.”

“But when everyone tells you you're crazy and no one believes you when you swear you aren't, a small part of you will always wonder if they're right.”

“I was warned about you, you know."And with that half-smile that wrecked me, Noah said, "But you're here anyway.”