Page 13 of Once Kissed

“I am not. I’ll have you know, I’ve done a great amount of research on sexism and know that despite the changes in our judicial system, laws, and increased awareness in our society, women continue to be oppressed and discriminated against in traditionally male-dominated fields—the police force being among the most guilty of such biases.”

And there’s that sexy smile again. “Believe it or not, not every guy out there is misogynistic,” he says.

“That’s a mighty big word for you,” I say, trying to ignore his grin. “I’m impressed you know what it means.”

“Of course I do. Not only am I good-looking, I’m pretty damn smart, too.” He spreads out his hands. “I’m the whole package, baby, standing right here in front of you. If you’d like, I’ll flex for you later. But only if you’re good,” he says, adding a wink.

I swallow hard, but then quickly clear my throat. “Officer O’Brien, you are truly unbelievable.”

“And you’re uptight, negative, and obviously convinced the world is out to get you and your sex.”

I slow to a stop. “I beg your pardon?”

He throws back his head, laughing. “Notsexsex. I meant womankind. Seriously, did you just go there?”

“I…”

Heat scorches me from head to toe as I quickly walk away. Of course, I can’t outrun this guy. In just a few strides, he’s right back beside me. “I’m not convinced everyone is out to get me,” I mutter under my breath.

“Sure you are.”

“I am not!”

“Then let’s get back to what you said. You’re assuming people hate Lu ’cause she’s a woman.”

“No. It’s just—” I take a moment to steady my voice. “As I was trying to explain, women make up a small percentage of the police force. They are not held in the same regard as male officers. They are often ridiculed and targeted because they are perceived as the weaker sex, weaker backup, and more emotional.”

“More emotional?” he asks, sounding appalled. “I don’t believe it.”

I gasp. “You—”

“Cad?” he offers.

I grind to a halt in front of the door leading up to the stairwell.Thisis the man who’s supposed to keep me safe?

Upon taking in my dumbfounded expression, Curran laughs into his shoulder. I slap my hands against my sides. Nice. Clearly I’m just kicks and giggles to be around.

It’s only when I try to open the door that his more serious persona returns. He holds out his hand, keeping me in place as he steps ahead of me and does a sweep of the stairwell.

“All clear,” he says, allowing me to pass.

I hurry through, only for him to clasp my elbow to keep me in place before I can take the first step. “Hold up,” he says. “I want to explain some things to you.” The door slams shut and he drops his hand away. “Remember the hazing that goes on when you pledge—you know, like at the college we went to together that I’m not supposed to talk about?”

I tilt my chin, wondering where he’s going with this. “Yes?”

“Well, it goes on at the academy, too, but it’s a lot worse—and meant to take you to your breaking point. The veteran cops there mess with your head. They purposely piss you off, screw with your mind, and stress you out. You’re maced. You’re thrown to the ground. And you’re sent to run until you swear to Christ your leg muscles are going to rip from the bone.”

I place my hand over my chest, feeling ill. “That’s…awful.”

Curran responds with a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s not meant to hurt, Tess. It’s meant to prepare. Because no matter what they do to you in the academy, it won’t compare to what some strung-out asshole waving a gun will do to you if he catches you alone. Won’t compare to the real pain you’ll feel when an abused woman cracks you in the head for arresting the man who knocked her teeth in. So the seasoned cops prep you any way they can. They’re not there to be your friend, or to hug you, or to tell you it’s going to be okay. Because if you’re a cop, chances are, it’s never going to be okay.”

Sadness overtakes me as trickles of Curran’s anguish find their way into his tone. Something happened to Curran—something terrible. Had he been harmed in the line of duty? Had he lost one of his friends?

“Are you all right?” I ask him, carefully.

He forces a smile. “Yeah. It’s all good.”

No, I don’t think it is…or was.“I’m sorry,” I tell him, honestly.

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