Page 72 of Once Kissed

“Then what’s up? Every time you’re in the same room, there’s all this goddamn tension between you.”

“Nah. It’s just your imagination.”

My phone buzzes. I have to work not to grin when I see the text from Tess.

Thanks for dinner again, cop.

Speak of the devil in argyles and corduroy. I glance at the time. Looks like she’s on break between her Torts and Civil Liability classes.

Last night, I cooked her my specialty: Velveeta Shells and Cheese smothered with sautéed mushrooms and onions, just like I did the first night she spent at my place. I tap on the keyboard.You’re welcome. If you’d like, I can make you ravioli tomorrow night.

Ravioli? Is this another secret recipe passed down from your ancestors—like your gourmet grilled cheese?

Oh, yeah,I type.It was given to me by our great uncle, the Chef of the Boyardee.

I hit send, only to catch Declan watching me. “You like her, don’t you?”

“Who?”

He rolls his eyes. “You know who. Contessa.”

“You mean Tess? Yeah. I told you, she’s a good kid.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it,” he tells me, pushing his empty bowl aside. “The problem is, you can’t have her.”

I roll my neck from side to side. “Why? Because she works with you?”

“No. To be honest, I’m willing to ignore that fact.”

“Is that so? Why the change of heart?”

“Because I think she might be good for you.”

This makes me grin. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Problem is, I don’t think you stand a chance at getting her.”

“I did before,” I shoot back, reaching for a leftover pickle.

“Back then you had a keg and Jell-O shots working to your advantage. That’s not the case anymore.” Declan leans back in his chair, one of his more arrogant smirks playing across his face as he swirls the glass of water in his hand. “You know what your problem is?”

I scroll through my phone. “Nope. But I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“You don’t know how to treat a lady.”

This time, it’s my turn to meet him with a cocky grin. “I don’t?”

“Nope,” he says, emphasizing the “p.”

“Is that a fact—but I take it you do, right?”

“Damn right. Curran, you may have your moves. You may get laid, but you don’t know how to treat a classy broad. A woman like Contessa—”

“Tess,” I clarify again.

His smile widens. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. A woman like Tess is used to a certain guy—refined, highly educated, and driven.”

He’s starting to piss me off. “Like you?”

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