Tess
April 2018
Declan won’t stop kissing me.
Even more disturbing, I can’t seem to stop kissing him back. Even worse is the fact that he keeps fucking apologizing for it.
I’m sorry, Tess.
I didn’t mean to do it.
Can we forget it happened?
Like kissing me is some sort of disaster. Like I’m some sort of delicate little flower who can’t handle him—and I’m not. He knows I’m not.
I can handle Declan Gilroy just fine.
He has the scars to prove it.
I’m not even sure why it bothers me. I mean, it’s not like it’s the first time it happened.
The first time was when he stole my cat.
I didn’t steal her, Tesla. You’re being ridiculous. And she’s not your cat.
She’s our cat.
That’s what he said to me when I turned up at his office. It’d been October—right around the time Henley and Con started pulling their let’s just be friends bullshit. Right before I lost my mind and ran around Gilroy’s in my underwear. He brought his work truck in for some routine maintenance. When I started to close up the garage, Shad was gone.
I didn’t even have to think about it. I knew where she was.
“Where is he?” I said as I pulled up next to where Cap’n was getting into his truck.
He doesn’t ask who. He just tosses his hard hat and blueprint tube into the diamond plate toolbox mounted in the bed of his truck and closes the lid. “Upstairs. Security code is 5951.”
I climb out of my car and slam the door, halfway across the lot before he calls out of me. “Back corner of the office. He’s built himself a fort.”
I have no idea what that means so I don’t answer. Taking the stairs two at a time, I key in the code that he gave me to find the second-floor dark. Jane, their receptionist, long gone.
Good. There won’t be any witnesses when I murder him.
The only point of light comes from the place where Patrick indicated—the back corner of their office, past workspaces and the place where they schmooze their rich clients.
Finding myself in front of a closed door, I raise my fist and start banging.
When Declan opens it, he doesn’t look surprised to see me. He looks annoyed. “Before you—”
“Give her back.” I push my way past him while scanning the room. It looks like a studio apartment. Kitchenette. Small living room, just big enough for a couch and a flat-screen. A pony wall separating what looks like a bedroom area from the rest of the space. The king-size bed is unmade. Seeing it, thinking about him in it instantly heats my cheeks. “Do you live here?” I finally look at him. He’s wearing basketball shorts and an old team shirt from the baseball team he and Patrick coach on the weekends.
“What?” The word comes out harsh. Defensive. “No.” He’s shaking his head. Looking around. Seeing what I’m seeing. “I just—” Shad lets out a yowl and I look down to see her winding herself between his legs, tail swishing. “Hey, baby,” he murmurs to her, reaching down to pick her up. She immediately starts rubbing her face along his jawline, her front paw planted firmly on his chin.
Shadrach likes me well enough. I’m the one who feeds her.
But she is in absolute love with Declan.
Always has been.
That cat and I have a lot in common.
“You took my fucking cat, asshole,” I yell at him. “You stole her.”
“I didn’t steal her, Tesla.” He swipes a hand over his face, pushing her paw away. Shad lets out a meow and re-plants it. “You’re being ridiculous—and she isn’t your cat. She’s our cat.”
“You gave her to me.” He’s right. I am being ridiculous, but I’m committed now. There’s no turning back. He of all people should know that. “She’s mine.”
“I’m sorry.” He sighs, still trying to reason with me. He’d have better luck trying to pet a rattlesnake. “I didn’t know she was in my truck. I found her curled up under my jacket. She must’ve jumped in while you were—”
“I hate you.” I hate the way my voice sounds. Weak.
His face changes. His expression hardens, his eyes going flat and dark. “I know.” Giving Shad a final nuzzle, he lifts her off his chest and offers her to me.
I rush past him, snagging the cat from his hands as I go. I’m not three steps through the door before she lets out a yowl and twists out of my grasp to leap over my shoulder.
“Goddamn it, Shad,” Declan shouts and I turn around to see him standing in his doorway, rubbing the back of his head in frustration as the cat streaks past him and back into his apartment. “Shit.” He looks at me and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I’ll bring her back in the—”
I don’t bother to listen to the rest, I just turn on my heel and start walking. I have to get away from him. I can’t stand here and listen to him apologize because he’s apologizing for the wrong thing. Because he’s totally oblivious to all the ways he’s fucked me up and even though that’s my fault, I still hate him for it. I still—
Something as big as Declan Gilroy should not be allowed to move so quickly and quietly.
That’s the thought that pushes itself to the front of my brain when I feel his massive hand grip around my shoulder, less than a second before he spins me around. His eyes don’t look flat anymore. They look glassy and sharp. Like they’ll cut me to pieces if I let myself fall into them again. Like they’ll hurt me if I let them.
“I’m sorry, Tess.”
“Stop saying that.” I scream it at him, reaching up to shove his hand off my shoulder. I push myself up onto the toes of my boots, cranking my neck back as far as I can before jabbing my finger against his chest. “You’re not sorry. You can’t be sorry.”
His eyes narrow into icy blue slits while he, slowly and deliberately, pushes my finger away from his chest. “And why is that?”
I jerk my hand away from his and drill my finger into his pec again. “Because in order to be sorry you’d have to actually give a shit.”
Something ripples over his features but he reins it in before it has a chance to take root. His jaw clenches, his teeth snapping together so fast and tight I hear the crack of them coming together. “I’ll drop Shad off at the garage in the morning.” He steps away from me and my finger hangs in the air between us. “You need to leave. Now—and don’t come back.”
“Why?” I advance on him, reconnecting my finger to his chest. “Are you afraid of me, Declan?”
His expression changes again. “Yes.”
Before his answer can register, he reaches for my hand again. This time instead of pushing it away, he wraps his fingers around mine and pulls me closer. “And if you could see what is going on in my brain right now, you’d be just as fucking terrified.”
I feel my toes curl inside my boots. My breath thickens inside my lungs. My wrist turns inside the lock of his fingers, flattening my hand against his chest. I can feel his heart knocking against my palm, fast and hard. “I’m not afraid of you.”
His gaze softens. Drops away from mine to fix itself on my mouth. “You should be.” Leaning into the space between us, he dips his head, bringing his mouth close to mine. “If you had the sense God gave a box of goddamned doorknobs, you would be.”
“I never claimed to be smart.” Matter of fact, when it comes to Declan Gilroy, a box of doorknobs is a fucking genius compared to me.
“You need to stop me,” he murmurs. Lifting his gaze, he locks it on mine. “Push me away. Punch me in the mouth.” He sounds desperate. Like we’re seconds away from catastrophe and he’s the only one who sees it. Like I’m the only one who can stop it. “I’m serious, Tess. You need to—”
I don’t push him away.
Fingers gripping the front of his shirt, I pull him even closer.
I don’t punch him in the mouth.
I lick him, the tip of my tongue skimming along his lower lip.
“Shit.” He groans it, a second before his tongue pushes past my lips, licking and stroking its way into my mouth. Tangling and thrusting against mine, the heat and rhythm of it sending a rush of warmth down my spine and my pussy clenches in response. I feel his hands streak along the swell of my hips, molding around the curve of my ass to lift me. I open my legs, wrapping them around his waist to pull him closer, gasping when the rock-hard length of him pushes against me.
I remember this.
How well we fit together.
He turns, pinning me to the wall with his hips, grazing and grinding my swollen clit with his rigid cock through my jeans until I’m moaning, my hips pumping and thrusting in time with his.
“Fuck.” he growls another curse, tearing his mouth away from mine while he pushes his hands between us. Turning again, he locks his hands around my waist and tears us apart, pushing me away so fast I stumble while he backs himself away from me until he’s standing in the doorway of his apartment.
We stand there for what feels like years, staring at each other. My mouth buzzing and tingling. His chest heaving, fists clenched at his sides.
“The next time you pull something like that, I will punch you in the fucking mouth,” I say, and he’s either too stunned or too angry to point out that I’m the one who started it. I’m the one who kissed him.
“Good.” That’s all he says.
Good.
Then he closed the door between us, leaving me in the dark.
“You pulling another disappearing act today?”
The socket wrench in my hand goes still and I look up to find Con leaning against the front fender of the car I’m buried in. He’s my best friend and I love him like crazy, but sometimes it takes everything I have to not bash his brains in with a tire iron.
“The girls are planning some sort of kidnapping.” The girls. It’s weird. A few years ago, all I had was Conner. I have plenty of acquaintances. People I can call if I need to move a couch or catch a movie, but he was my only real friend. The only person I did call.
Now I have girls.
And they’re coming to kidnap me.
I set the wrench down and reach for my bandana. “Apparently, I need a dress for Cari’s show. It’s supposed to be a big secret but Grace is about as stealthy as a five-year-old on a week-long sugar binge.” Pulling it out of my back pocket, I start to give my hands a rub down while glancing at the clock. It’s barely eleven o’clock. “I was going to head over to Benny’s before—wanna come?” I make the offer, even though I know he’ll say no. He’s all about Henley these days. I mean, he’s always been all about Henley, from the second we started hanging out—the loss of her is what bonded us in the first place—but now that she’s back for good and they’re together, I’ve shifted down his list of priorities.
I’m not complaining and I’m not jealous.
I’m not.
I’m so goddamned happy for them my chest gets tight every time I see them together.
But I’d be lying if I said that I’m not lonely. Cari has Patrick. Conner has Henley.
I have my cat.
And really, she’s more hostage than companion.
Because she prefers Declan to me.
Ungrateful traitor that she is.
“Uh… actually, I have something I need to do.” He flashes me his dimples, but it’s more nervous twitch than cheeky grin.
“Your girlfriend in the supply closet?” I close the hood to the car I’m working on while he laughs. I walked in on them in the laundry room yesterday. I think I might need therapy. And to install a lock on every fucking door in this place.
“Haha,” he says, not even a little bit embarrassed about it. “Actually, I’m going to New York to meet with her stepdad…” whatever he’s in the middle of saying trails off and his mouth twitches again. Nervous is not something Con is used to feeling and it shows. “I’m going to ask Henley to marry me.”
Holy shit.
I knew it was going to happen. That it had to happen, but I—
“Tessie?” I look up from my hands to find him standing over me. He’s not smiling anymore. He looks worried. Like he’s holding his breath. Exactly how I used to look at him when I knew he wasn’t taking care of himself. When he fell and didn’t care enough to get back up. When I had to yell and scream and fight with him, just to get him to eat.
It’s been months since I’ve had to do that. Even before Henley came back for good, he changed.
You don’t have to worry about me, Tess. I’m solid.
He’s said it to me a million times, only this time it’s true. The torrent of emotion inside me swells. Threatens to carry me away, so I throw my arms around him and hold on for dear life.
“I love you.” I’ve got my face mashed against his chest, so the words come out muffled and flat, but he understands me just fine.
“I love you too.” His finger slips under my chin and tips it up, propping it against his chest so I’ll look at him. “Be my best man?”
“You’re that confident, huh?” I grin up at him. “Who says she’s gonna say yes to your sorry ass?”
“Confidence is just about the only thing I have going for me.” He runs the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “That and a better best friend than I deserve.”
Damnit, I’m crying.
I hate to cry more than I hate wearing dresses.
“Don’t you dare get mushy on me, Gilroy.” I give him one more squeeze before pushing him away.
“You started it with all that I love you crap.” He laughs, sounding both relieved and concerned.
Conner is worried.
About me.
It’s got to be one of the signs of the apocalypse. Any minute now, it’s gonna start raining frogs.
“Hunger makes me say dumb shit, you know that.” Reaching up, I peel myself out of my coveralls and toss them in the corner. “Good luck, Romeo—and take a fucking shower. You stink.”