Page 70 of Once Kissed

I believe you know it as a blow job.

I crack up, knowing she’s pissed.Settle down there, princess.

Don’t call me that.

Okay, nerd.

You are an absolute JACKASS!!!

A jackass you pirouetted at three a.m., and one you’re having dinner with at nine. See you then.

When she doesn’t text back, I start thinking I went too far, until that familiar buzz vibrates in my hand and I read her text.

Fine,it says.

—

I figured Tess would be distant when I came for her, and I figured right. She barely speaks to me. As I maneuver around town, she stares straight ahead with her hands folded over her lap. I roll into the parking lot of my apartment building and turn into my assigned space.

I don’t look at Tess until I jog around and open the door for her. “I thought you were taking me to dinner,” she says quietly.

“I am. This is me taking you to dinner. But tonight I’m your chef, server, and busboy all in one smokin’-hot package.”

She doesn’t move. “Okay…but I can’t spend the night. I have a— I have an early class tomorrow, and then I have to stay late and help Declan.”

“I’ll drive you back as soon as we’re done. Promise.”

She nods, and allows me to help her out. I hold on to her hand until we reach the doors to the foyer. I pause and nod to the rookie watching her for the night. He’s new. Brand new, but seems all right.

He nods in response, not that Tess seems to notice our exchange. She stares at the pattern along the gold-and-sand tiled floor as we cross the foyer and step in front of the elevator. “This is a nice building,” she offers almost silently.

Jesus. I thought we were beyond all this bullshit. “It wasn’t before, but we put a lot of work into it.”

She considers me then. “ ‘We’?”

I punch the security code to the elevator and lead her inside. “Declan and Seamus—our other brother—we own it. We bought it a couple of years ago, but we’re planning to sell it in the next few months. The realtor we spoke to says we’ll get at least five times what we put into it.”

“Why are you selling it?”

I shrug. “It was an investment. Something we did with the money our father left us when he died. Deck, Seamus, and I are thinking about buying a parking deck next. No tenants to deal with, minimal maintenance, and a cash cow that will carry us into retirement.”

I wait for a beat, then ask, “Did you delete our text exchange earlier? Considering you have a county phone…”

Her cheeks pink up and it’s not from the cold. “Yes. I deleted it.”

No one’s checking in on her, and the phone will soon be tossed, but it’s better to keep things professional. “Okay. Good.”

The doors swing open and we step out. I release her hand and dig around my pockets for my keys. I didn’t realize we were holding hands again—I must have done it without thinking—but I do notice she doesn’t seem to mind.

I shove my key into the lock. “I’m not in the penthouse,” I admit. “But it’s nice, and I hope you like it.”

I lock the door when we step in and take her coat, hanging it with mine in the closet. “Make yourself at home,” I tell her. I walk past her to give her some space, not liking how uncomfortable she seems.

After everything we did, there shouldn’t be all this tension between us. It’s as if she’s a different person from the one who fell asleep in my arms.

I wash my hands in the kitchen and reach for a pot and pan from one of my bottom cabinets. “This is beautiful,” she says, taking a seat on the bar stool directly in front of me.

Okay, maybe she’s warming up. I fill the pot with water and add some salt before placing it on the stove. “The building’s old, but it has wood beams, crown molding, and high-tiered ceilings that a lot of the new places don’t have. We paid Seamus, and our oldest brother, Angus, to refinish the floors, replace the countertops with granite, and modernize the bathrooms.”

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