She seems sad, all over again. Just like she always was in college. “Got a lot on your mind?” I repeat, letting her know I’m listening and hoping maybe she’ll tell me what’s up.

“At times I think too much,” she agrees. Her voice is almost inaudible as we pass along the busy streets. “School, this internship, and…well, let’s just say I’m overwhelmed at the moment.”

I have the feeling there’s more here than what’s being said. “Are you sure that’s all of it?” I ask.

For all she tries to smile then, I catch that misery that always seems to plague her. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I s’pose.”

“What about you?” she asks.

My grip on the steering wheel tightens. “What about me?”

“You seem stressed as well.” She shifts her weight. “And when we go courtside, that stress becomes more pronounced, especially around the sheriff’s officers.”

“Nah. It’s just your imagination.”

“Curran…I’m not stupid.”

“Never said you were.”

The sharpness to my tone abruptly quiets her. I think she’s done pushing, and that’s good enough for me. But as I pull onto the street that leads to Itsu’s, she says something I’m not ready to hear. “You know that police officer who was shot. I know you do. And, well, I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry he was hurt. And I’m truly sorry for what you’re going through.”

She keeps her voice gentle, and I can hear the honesty in her words. That doesn’t mean I say anything back. This thing with Joey is messing me up ten ways to Sunday—more than I want to admit, and more than I want anyone to know, especially her. But in not responding, it’s like I confirm all her suspicions. Well, fuck me.

My eyes cut to the rearview mirror. No one’s following us, which is good considering I’m not paying enough attention. Tess threw me for a loop in bringing up Joey, and it’s something I can’t allow. She may not be on the mob’s radar yet, but eventually she might be—just like my brother already is. I have to stay sharp. No matter what anyone says.

And I have to get over this shit with Joey.

I park directly beside Declan, shielding his side with my truck and Tess with the cinder-block wall. “Wait till I come get you,” I tell her.

In her silence, I wonder if she’s feeling sorry for me. I slam the door, hoping she’s not. Given the choice, I’d rather meet a scowl and a swinging fist than pity. Pity’s for pussies and those too weak to fight.

And hell will freeze before I go down like a punk.

The other badge opposite Declan’s ride rolls down his window. “How long’s your shift?” I ask him.

“Got another two. How long do you have?”

“Four more.” I adjust my gloves. “Did you eat?”

“Nah, but the wife’s got dinner waiting. I’ll cover the outside if you want to head in.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

“Hey, O’Brien,” the badge calls as I leave to get Tess.

“Yeah?”

He taps on the wheel as if mulling over his thoughts. “I’ll see you around,” he finally says.

He means well, but what he keeps to himself isn’t doing me any favors. It wasn’t long ago people gave it to me straight. Those were the days, man. Days I won’t easily get back.

Declan and Tess follow me into the restaurant. “Booth in the back, please,” I tell the waiter who greets us, flashing him my badge pinned inside my leather jacket.

His eyes widen. “Of course. This way, sir.”

I motion Tess and Declan forward. Like a seasoned pro, Declan spots the hostess, Sally, or Cindy or who gives a shit what her name is? In that too-tight dress, she’s all Declan needs. They exchange brief nods from across the room, where she’s seating an elderly couple.

Tess doesn’t seem to notice, but she does notice how abruptly he excuses himself soon after he finishes eating. “Is everything all right?”

He smiles politely, though his attention is toward the front door, where his date is already waiting. “Heavy case is all. I’ll probably spend the weekend working.”

Or in bed, I’m thinking.

“Would you like me to come over and help?” she asks him.

“No,” we both answer.

Deck narrows his eyes. A warning meant for me, which I answer with a stiff middle finger. Tess slaps her hands over mine and forces my hand against the table. “Behave,” she whispers. “We’re in public.”

“We’re also in South Philly,” I remind her.

Declan pulls on his coat and drops a few bills on the table. “Thank you for your help,” he tells Tess. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” To me he says, “Good night, Curran. Hope you can stay warm, in your car all alone.”

Have I mentioned I don’t like being ordered around? “Don’t worry,” I tell him, winking Tess’s way. “I know how to turn up the heat.”

Her eyes are too busy widening to catch Declan slip away and out of the restaurant with this evening’s lay leaning hard against him. I angle my body around, making sure he reaches his car and drives off with his watch tailing him before turning back to Tess.

The waiter who seated us rushes forward, ready to bus our table.

My attention skims to Tess’s plate. It’s still half-filled with food. I hold out a hand, stopping the waiter from taking it away. “The lady’s still eating, buddy.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Tess stares from her plate to Declan’s empty one. “It’s all right. I probably had enough.”

“What are you talking about? You barely ate and you skipped lunch.”

She pushes her hair behind her ear, her attention returning to her food. “We were busy. It was hard to get out.”

I frown. “Which is more reason to eat now. You have to make up for what you didn’t get earlier.”

She glances up. “Are you going to eat?”

I ate quite a bit, but Tess isn’t going to eat alone. This much I know. “Yeah. I’ll probably order another few rolls.” I laugh to lighten the mood when she seems torn. “Come on. You don’t want me to eat by myself, do you?”

She swallows a little, her eyes traveling back to her plate. “No. I’ll stay with you.”

I point to her food. “Give us another two rolls of whatever she’s having, will ya?” I tell the waiter. He’s been quietly observing and probably rethinking his career choice.

“Right away, sir,” he mumbles.

Tess lifts her chopsticks and cautiously places a small piece of sushi in her mouth. She seems hungry, really hungry. Yet it’s like she’s forcing herself to eat slowly, just like she’s eaten since the food arrived. At first, I thought it was for show, trying to demonstrate all that cotillion crap she’d likely been forced to learn. I didn’t give it much thought, figuring she was trying to impress Declan with her manners. Now, I’m not so sure.

She picks up another piece and eats it carefully, her thick lashes lowering as if savoring every bite. It bugs me. Something’s definitely going on with her. “Did you always want to be a lawyer?” I ask, before I ask something I shouldn’t.

She finishes chewing and takes a sip of her water. “No. Actually, I wanted to be a ballerina.”

I bark out a laugh, quieting when I catch sight of her reddening face. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“I was actually quite good when I was younger. But not good enough for what it takes to become a professional,” she says, carefully wiping her mouth. “So I was encouraged to choose a more practical career.”

“By your father?” Her sudden stillness makes it clear I hit a nerve. Shit.

“Yes,” she admits quietly. She lifts another piece of food. “What about you? Did you always want to be a police officer?”

“Either that or a stripper, but stripping doesn’t offer dental.”

She chokes on her food when she starts laughing, but manages to cover her mouth with her napkin. I chuckle when she lowers her napkin and meets me with a wide grin. “There’s that smile I’ve missed.”

Her humor fades, but not that sparkle in her eyes. “You missed my smile?”

The real one you’re giving me now rather than the one just to shut me up? Yeah, I had, but I don’t exactly say it that way. “It looks good on you,” I admit.