The Heartbreaker's Home

Chapter 3

The First Kiss

"Are you sure, this is okay? Mister Higgins will have my head." Kelsey hissed, clinging on to Declan's shoulders as he helped her over the wall, grinning all the while. He laughed, placed her feet on the ground and kissed her forehead.

"Trust me sweetheart, you won't regret it."

"Why must it be during our last school hour? Why can't you bring me to wherever this is, after school hours?"

"Because you need to live a little, sweetheart. Don't be such a goody-two-shoes." Declan retorted. Kelsey gasped, and gave him a look of mock distaste.

"How dare you Declan Reed."

He laughed, grabbing her by the waist to press her flush against him, as if he wanted to absorb every ounce of her into him if he could. Kelsey started, but eventually wrapped her arms around his neck, loving the way they melded into each other like two pieces of a jigsaw fitting to each other. Was it too fast to think she had found the one she would like to spend the rest of her life with? At the age of seventeen, Seeley would call her crazy, but she really did think she did.

"We have to get there, or we won't catch the sunset." he murmured, leaning closer to her, making Kelsey's breath hitch.

What she hadn't expect, was that it would be the handsome, playboy quarterback of her high school. With her arms around him, she forgot all about the surprise he had planned for her when he pressed his lips to hers, the jolt of electricity that shot through her when his warmth melted hers a surprise, even for her. It wasn't the first time she was kissed, but it was the first time she was kissed by Declan Reed.

And no one else ever could compare.

---

"Your quiz will be in three days time, and I expect all of you to be prepared for it - yes, even you, Mr. Reed. No exceptions."

Even if it wasn't me that Professor Hastings's eyes zeroed in on, I felt myself pale, especially when Declan threw a panicked look at me, as the rest of the class packed their books and notes to go off to their respective plans. Was Professor Hastings setting me up to fail, or was he just out to get me? How in the world was I supposed to cram enough into Declan in three days time? We've only been having tutoring sessions for 2 weeks, everyday after classes, and two hours on Saturday mornings. The conversation between us had been congenial, easy but stunted. I never once broached the subject of his injury again, and he never asked me about my family again, because that had always been how it was like between us, save for that period of us dating.  Polite, reserved, but always with a sense or feeling that it should be something more.

But who was I kidding? Declan Reed was never for me.

"Any plans, teach?" his voice made me look up, just in time to catch his uncertain grin. Even on crutches, his tousled dark brown hair managed to give him a just-out-of-bed look that hit me right in the gut, it took Ayah kicking my table surreptitiously to remind me to get up.

 "Other then desperately trying to condense 8 months of material into three days?" I wryly replied, meeting his mildly desperate gaze with a wry one of my own. He gave a sarcastic laugh, and then shrugged. But something seemed slightly off in his demeanor, as if he finally gave in that there was no other way around it. For Declan, who I had always known to stubbornly pursue something until he got it (at least that was how he got me the first time), it seemed highly uncharacteristic of him, so much so that it got me uncomfortable seeing him that way.

"Look," I suddenly spoke up, surprising even myself. "I have to go and practice, but if you want to, you can come and join me in the practice room while you go through stuff, and after that, we can grab some dinner and continue? Intensive three day tutoring sessions." I suggested. Next to me, I didn't have to look to know Ayah had shot me a surprised glance. Luckily, my friend was astute enough to keep her words to herself, as opposite me, Declan brightened up with a smile, which turned into a confused one. "Practice room?" he echoed in question.