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Tess
April 2018
Declan won’t stop kissingme.
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’tsteal 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.