Page 65 of The Trolley Kiss
I don’t know why I’m freaking out. It’s not like we haven’t already fucked in my bed for Christ’s sake. I haven’t felt this nervous for a date since Jake Butler picked me up for junior prom.
I yank the door open before I have a chance to change my mind about the whole thing. Declan is standing there with a bottle of wine, looking sexy as hell in his jeans and a tee. I hate when he wears casual clothes. Fucking. Hate. It.
“Hi,” he says, giving me a teasing smile like he knows I’m blowing this all up in my head.
He wanted to take me out somewhere, but I don’t know. That felt too official. I told him to just come over for dinner instead. I ordered delivery. I’m not about to cook for this man. This is just a hangout. No big deal.
“Hi, come in.”
We both walk in silence to the kitchen like neither one of us knows what to say. The tension in the air is unbearable. I know it’s my fault that this situation is awkward, but I’m not sure how to fix it.
“Would you like a glass?” he finally says to break the silence.
“Yes,” I breathe out. I don’t wait to grab the glasses and wine opener.
Declan pours us both a glass. I grab mine and tip it back, chugging down way more than is appropriate.
He laughs, easing some of the tension. “Would you like another one?” he teases.
I grab the bottle from his hand and top off my glass. “Don’t think you’re getting lucky just because you’re boozing me up.”
He bites his bottom lip. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
“Good.” I smirk, walking over to the living room and sitting down on the couch. “Besides, I have a bruised clit.”
Declan chokes on the wine he was trying to take a sip of, sending him into a coughing attack that turns into a laugh. “You have a fuckingwhat?”
I narrow my eyes. “Hardly funny. You’re the one who did it to me. How would you like it if I broke your cock in half?”
He closes his eyes and shudders dramatically before sitting down next to me. “That sounds fucking fantastic,” he says, laying his arm on the back of the couch.
“Ha. Ha.” I flip my hair, taking a sip of my wine. “Jokes on you. Could take weeks to heal.”
“Would you like me to kiss it better?”
I reach for the takeout bag and hand him his box. “Just eat your food, Carver.”
Thursday, Dec. 10.
“So you don’t want any actual fish? I thought you said this sushi place was your favorite?”
“Shut up.” I shove Declan’s arm. “Just because it doesn’t have fish, doesn’t mean that it’s not sushi.” I nod back at his phone for him to finish ordering. “Now, I want the asparagus roll, the carrot and avocado roll, and the avocado tempura roll. Oh! And a side order of rangoons.”
“Anything else?” he asks.
“No, now hurry up or it won’t be here by the time the game starts!”
Declan’s phone buzzes thirty minutes later right during kickoff, letting us know the food is on the porch. He gets up and grabs it, setting it on my coffee table.
“Thanks,” I say, popping one of the sushi rolls in my mouth. “So you never told me how the new job is,” I say with a mouth full of rice.
He rolls his eyes at me. “It’s the same job. I just don’t have to deal with your sassy ass every day. I was wondering why it felt so easy.”
“Sounds boring,” I snap back.
He grins at me. “Be honest, do you miss me?”
I take a sip of my drink to avoid his eyes. “Yeah,” I mumble under my breath.