“You’re shy. I get it, but—”

“I’m not shy.” He looks at me. “I’m not,” I insist.

“Then how come you barely spoke to me, back in you-know-where?”

He chuckles when my face heats. But he doesn’t understand that what he asks isn’t easy for me to explain. I don’t want to admit how much he intimidated me, or how hard it was watching him flirt with everyone but me—or that I pretended not to notice him and acted like I wasn’t attracted to him, because in truth, it hurt knowing I was the one girl he wasn’t drawn to.

I don’t remind him that those few times I did try to speak with him when we first met, his attention quickly drifted to those pretty girls who had more to say, who weren’t so awkward, and whose figures captivated his interest more than mine did.

So yes, I might have avoided eye contact, stayed quiet, and kept my distance, but that didn’t mean I was shy. It meant he had hurt my feelings…even though he probably didn’t mean to.

“I mostly keep to myself,” I manage, hoping it’s enough.

Curran’s attention stays ahead. “All right,” he says, although I’m not sure he believes me.

I pretend to search for something in my purse, only because it’s hard to keep my expression casual when I think about how hard things were for me then. “So, how will things work exactly? Will you be with me every day?”

“No. We’ll work in shifts. Me and three other badges. It’s my understanding the other two cops will always be different, but me and Lu will be your regular eyes.”

“Lou? Who’s he?”

“Lu’s a she. Her name’s Lucy McCarthy and she’s been part of the Philly PD for close to thirty years. Most of us boys in blue—and the women, too—we go by our last names. Lu’s always gone by Lu. She’s worked the streets forever and has taught in every academy from here to Harrisburg. Everyone with a badge knows her, and either loves or hates her. But one thing: we all respect her.”

I consider his words. “Why do people hate her? Because she’s a woman?”

Curran barks out a laugh. “Damn, Tess. You skipped right past the love and respect and dove headfirst into the hate. You haven’t changed a bit.”

I tighten my hold on my purse strap. “What’s that’s supposed to mean?” I ask, feeling myself grow defensive.

He offers me a sexy smile, which simply irritates the hell out of me. Truly it does. “Oh, nothing,” he says, keeping his grin. “Just that you’re still as negative and uptight as ever.”

“I’m not negative.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Or uptight,” I insist.

“Yup. That, too.”

“I am not. I’ll have you know, I’ve done a great amount of research on sexism and know that despite the changes in our judicial system, laws, and increased awareness in our society, women continue to be oppressed and discriminated against in traditionally male-dominated fields—the police force being among the most guilty of such biases.”

And there’s that sexy smile again. “Believe it or not, not every guy out there is misogynistic,” he says.

“That’s a mighty big word for you,” I say, trying to ignore his grin. “I’m impressed you know what it means.”

“Of course I do. Not only am I good-looking, I’m pretty damn smart, too.” He spreads out his hands. “I’m the whole package, baby, standing right here in front of you. If you’d like, I’ll flex for you later. But only if you’re good,” he says, adding a wink.

I swallow hard, but then quickly clear my throat. “Officer O’Brien, you are truly unbelievable.”

“And you’re uptight, negative, and obviously convinced the world is out to get you and your sex.”

I slow to a stop. “I beg your pardon?”

He throws back his head, laughing. “Not sex sex. I meant womankind. Seriously, did you just go there?”

“I…”

Heat scorches me from head to toe as I quickly walk away. Of course, I can’t outrun this guy. In just a few strides, he’s right back beside me. “I’m not convinced everyone is out to get me,” I mutter under my breath.

“Sure you are.”

“I am not!”

“Then let’s get back to what you said. You’re assuming people hate Lu ’cause she’s a woman.”

“No. It’s just—” I take a moment to steady my voice. “As I was trying to explain, women make up a small percentage of the police force. They are not held in the same regard as male officers. They are often ridiculed and targeted because they are perceived as the weaker sex, weaker backup, and more emotional.”

“More emotional?” he asks, sounding appalled. “I don’t believe it.”

I gasp. “You—”

“Cad?” he offers.

I grind to a halt in front of the door leading up to the stairwell. This is the man who’s supposed to keep me safe?

Upon taking in my dumbfounded expression, Curran laughs into his shoulder. I slap my hands against my sides. Nice. Clearly I’m just kicks and giggles to be around.

It’s only when I try to open the door that his more serious persona returns. He holds out his hand, keeping me in place as he steps ahead of me and does a sweep of the stairwell.

“All clear,” he says, allowing me to pass.

I hurry through, only for him to clasp my elbow to keep me in place before I can take the first step. “Hold up,” he says. “I want to explain some things to you.” The door slams shut and he drops his hand away. “Remember the hazing that goes on when you pledge—you know, like at the college we went to together that I’m not supposed to talk about?”

I tilt my chin, wondering where he’s going with this. “Yes?”

“Well, it goes on at the academy, too, but it’s a lot worse—and meant to take you to your breaking point. The veteran cops there mess with your head. They purposely piss you off, screw with your mind, and stress you out. You’re maced. You’re thrown to the ground. And you’re sent to run until you swear to Christ your leg muscles are going to rip from the bone.”

I place my hand over my chest, feeling ill. “That’s…awful.”

Curran responds with a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s not meant to hurt, Tess. It’s meant to prepare. Because no matter what they do to you in the academy, it won’t compare to what some strung-out asshole waving a gun will do to you if he catches you alone. Won’t compare to the real pain you’ll feel when an abused woman cracks you in the head for arresting the man who knocked her teeth in. So the seasoned cops prep you any way they can. They’re not there to be your friend, or to hug you, or to tell you it’s going to be okay. Because if you’re a cop, chances are, it’s never going to be okay.”

Sadness overtakes me as trickles of Curran’s anguish find their way into his tone. Something happened to Curran—something terrible. Had he been harmed in the line of duty? Had he lost one of his friends?

“Are you all right?” I ask him, carefully.

He forces a smile. “Yeah. It’s all good.”

No, I don’t think it is…or was. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, honestly.

His mouth purses as if whatever happened to him had no effect, but it’s clear that it did, even as he continues speaking. “Like I was saying, those seasoned cops—they do what they do because they need to do it. They’re there to separate the weak from the strong and help those who graduate stay alive when it’s their turn to hit the streets.”

“So Lu was one of the trainers who took you to your breaking point,” I say, wanting him to know that I’m listening, and that his words are affecting me.

“Yeah. She was. To give you an example, my group was given a scenario with a bomb threat, armed perps, and a bunch of civilians. I was the only one who didn’t shoot an innocent bystander. The only one who kept his head, and the only recruit who got the job done the right way. Can’t say the same for the rest of my group. That didn’t stop Lu from macing all of us and making us run five miles while repeating the Miranda out loud.”

My mouth goes strangely dry. “But why were you punished? You didn’t do anything wrong.”