My Broody Mountain Man

I was too old for her. Too damaged. Too far gone.

That’s what I tell myself every time I walk into the diner where she works and slide into the corner booth like I’m not counting the minutes until she brings me coffee.
I’ve seen things that left marks — the kind that don’t fade — and a girl like her deserves someone who still believes in good things.
I don’t.

I keep my distance. Keep my mouth shut. Keep walking her to her car in the dark because I can’t not. And every time she smiles at me like I’m not the broody, broken son-of-a-bitch that I am, it costs me just a little bit more.
But she’s too young. Too innocent. Too good for a man who’s only ever been good at surviving.
The question is — how long can I keep convincing myself that’s enough of a reason to stay away?

Some men love quietly, from a distance, in the dark. Until they can’t anymore. Because, when Broken Heroes love, they love hard.