by Emma Hart
“Human. I figured I’d get changed, order pizza, and paint.” I stood by my door. “Do you have work?”
Yawning, she covered her mouth and nodded. “’Til eleven. I’m so freakin’ tired.”
“You have time to eat before you go?”
She looked over her shoulder. “If you order pizza now, probably.”
“’Kay. I’ll do it on the app.” I ran back into the living room to get my phone, then went into my room to change. In seconds, I’d ordered the pizza and had tossed my phone onto the bed.
The knock at our door came when I was half naked with my head stuck in my closet.
“Want me to get that?” Avery yelled.
“Please! I’m half-naked!”
“Thanks for that!”
She was welcome.
I pulled out some yoga pants and a tank top emblazoned with, “I like to party, and by party, I mean read books.” The click of the front door came right as I pulled up my pants and grabbed my shirt.
“Pops? There’s something here for you.”
Frowning, I tugged the shirt down over my boobs and walked into the main room. On our small dining table that was currently covered in my paints, was a massive bouquet of poppies. The blood-red color was a bright pop in our kitchen, and I stopped dead as reality hit me.
Only one person I knew would have the balls to send me my namesake flowers.
Avery picked at the card. “He’s brave. The last boy who tried to give you a poppy got a punch in the nose.”
“I was eight, and he was a dick.” I took the card from her, fingering the edge of one of the petals. I didn’t think I wanted to read this, but I didn’t have a choice, so I opened the small card.
Thank you for reminding me how to have fun this weekend, Red.
Don’t kill me for this.
I smiled, closing the card. The flowers were even in a red vase that matched the poppies perfectly. I trailed my finger over one of the flowers and down the side of the shiny vase, my stomach flipping as I put the card down next to it.
Avery sighed and shook her head. “I don’t get you.”
“Don’t start, Aves.” I slid into my chair and pushed the tabletop easel to the side. “I don’t want to hear it, okay?”
She slammed her hands on the table. “You hate poppies.”
“I don’t hate poppies. I think they’re an easy cop-out and only an idiot would assume they’re my favorite flower just because of my name.”
With attitude, she motioned to the flowers.
“They’re not—” I stopped and sighed. “Red. His nickname for me. It started the morning after we, you know.”
“Fucked.”
“Slept together,” I said dryly. “I asked him why he called me red, and he said it was partly because of my hair, and partly because my name is Poppy, and poppies are red. I think this is him throwing back to that conversation.”
“That’s a ridiculous reason for a nickname.”
“I know. Why do you think he told me not to kill him?”
Avery pinched the bridge of her nose and laughed. “You two so obviously have feelings for each other.”
I held up my finger. “I told you not to start.”
“I’m doing this because I’m your best friend and I care about you. You’re so damn stubborn you can’t see that you’re hurting yourself because you’re too afraid of telling him how you feel.”
“No, Aves, you’re wrong. I know I’m hurting myself, but it’s not so simple. He’s not here most of the time. He travels for most of the season. He admitted that relationships are a struggle because of it. Would you rather I get over this little crush now, or try a relationship that I already know isn’t going to work just because we spent one weekend together?”
She went to say something, then stopped.
“If I spend more time with Adam, I can tell you right now, one hundred percent, I’m going to fall in love with him.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice.
“And if I fall in love with him, that’ll be it for me. I’m not afraid to tell him how I feel. I’m afraid to fall in love and get my heart broken.”
“So is everyone else, but it doesn’t mean it stops them from doing it.” She smiled at me sadly and put her phone in her purse. “I’m gonna get to work. I think you need to be alone to think about this.”
I agreed with her. As much as I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to think about this. My mind was made up, and he’d all but agreed. He hadn’t exactly told me we should take it further.
Sure, he’d said that a part of him wished we’d never said it was just the weekend, but that didn’t equal “Let’s see each other in real life.”
Maybe I was beating a dead horse to make myself feel better, but whatever. I had to do what I had to do to convince myself this was the right choice.
No, you know what? I didn’t need to convince myself because I already knew it was, and I didn’t need to justify myself to anyone else either.
There.
I pulled my sketchbook over in front of me and pulled out a pencil.
I couldn’t keep Adam, but I could keep one of his poppies.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – POPPY
Time Heals Cuts, Not Hearts
THREE WEEKS LATER
“Will you please turn that off?”
Avery looked over her shoulder at me. “What?” she asked, eyes fluttering innocently.
I looked at the screen. Adam Winters sat on my TV in all his handsome glory, doing a press conference for some sponsorship deal he’d just signed.
It was cool. It was fine. It’d been three weeks. I was so over it.
“You know exactly what,” I said to her, sitting at the table. “Do you have to watch him?”
“I like hockey.”
“You haven’t watched hockey the entire time we’ve lived together, and this isn’t even hockey. You’re trying to make a point.” I picked up my paintbrush and dipped it in the red paint I’d mixed earlier that day. I’d been trying to finish the poppy for weeks, and now all I had was a photo I’d had to take.
Avery sighed and muted the TV. “I don’t get it. It’s been three weeks. This shouldn’t bother you, and if it does, you need to call him.”
“I think he’s doing just fine without the random redhead he spent a weekend with,” I retorted. Especially if the figures the media were throwing around were correct.
“Poppy. You’ve started following the news on the Storms and you actually Googled him last week.”
“I’m not following anything. It’s that freaky thing the internet does when it gives you ads about things you’ve never Googled.”
“Okay, so what about Googling him?”
“I don’t have to justify my Google searches to you. I didn’t make you explain when you searched for lesbian porn.”
She shrugged. “Totally straight, but it’s hot.”
“Your porn is your porn. He’s my porn, and I had a moment of weakness.” I added a smidge of detail to a petal. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“It didn’t mean anything? I think you miss him, or you wouldn’t care so much that he’s on TV.”
“I don’t know him enough to miss him.”
“You know him plenty!”
“I’m trying to concentrate over here, Aves.”
She shook her head and put the volume back on.
All right, so I wasn’t over it. It bugged me. I didn’t want to see his face if I couldn’t kiss it and I didn’t want to hear his voice unless it was in my ear.
Three weeks. It’d been three weeks and I’d thought about him every day. I’d drafted texts I’d never sent and hovered on the call button way too many times, but I’d never been able to do it. How lame was I?
“Can you at least turn it down if you won’t turn it off?” I asked Avery.
“Nope.”
That was that, I guess.
I did my best to block out everything that was coming from that direction to focus
on adding the finer details to my poppy. The seeds, the shadowing, the tiny things that would preoccupy my brain and stop me paying attention to him on the TV.
I even hummed. Hum, hum, hum. A tune I didn’t even know, but one that was designed to make me not listen.
“Oh my God call him!” Avery yelled, throwing the remote in my direction.
I ducked, and it hit the fridge behind me, falling to the door. The back popped off on contact, meaning the batteries went scattering across the floor.
“If that still works, you’re gonna be so lucky,” I told her.
“Poppy.”
“No.”
“Poppy.”
“Go away.”
“Poppy!”
“No!” I was about to throw something of my own when my phone rang. I pushed the chair back and glanced at the screen. “It’s my dad,” I told her expectant face.
She sulked and went back to watching Adam.
“Hey Dad,” I said, answering. “What’s up?”
“Your mother wants to have dinner this weekend,” he said without even greeting me.
“Can’t wait.”
“And she wants Adam there.”
I froze. “What—what does she want him there for?”
“She said she didn’t get to speak to him as much as she’d liked at the wedding, and since we’re coming for a meeting, if he’s in town, she’d like to see him.”
Shit.
Fuck.
Ass.
Assfuck.
I was in trouble.
Again.
“Oh, right, well, um.” I turned away from Avery’s flapping hands. “When is it? Saturday?”
“Yes. At six. She booked a table already.”
“At least I don’t have a cook,” I said. “I can see if he’s free. He’s pretty busy at the minute.”
“I saw his new deal. Cool, huh?”
“Yep. Very cool.” Please stop talking.
As if he knew what I’d been thinking, Dad coughed. “Right, I should be off. Have a conference call coming. Just thought I’d give you the heads up.”
“Thanks, Dad. Appreciate it.”
“Love you, Pops.”
“Love you. See you Saturday. Bye.” I hung up and put my phone on the table, clapping my hand over my mouth.
Avery got up and walked over to me. “What’s wrong?”
“My parents are coming into town for dinner on Saturday.”
“Oh no.”
“And they want Adam there.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.” I slumped into my chair and buried my face in my hands.
“Well,” she said, opening the fridge. “I guess you have to call him after all.”
I flipped her the bird. “I need to think.” I got up and walked to my room, shutting the door behind me.
Then, I flopped face-first onto my bed and screamed into my pillow.
Fuck.
***
I pocketed the tip from the not-so-generous table and tossed the ticket in the bin. Today had sucked—work had been good, but my mind wasn’t fully focused. I couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid dinner.
I hated past me. She was an idiot.
“Hey, Poppy? You have a new table. He’s been there a few minutes.” My curvaceous co-worker Yvonne slipped behind me, rubbing her sizeable bosom against my back, to get to the register.
I looked up. “Oh, thanks. I’ll head over there now.” I pulled my pad out of my purse and clicked my pen as I approached the table. “Hi, I’m Poppy and I’ll be your server this evening. What can I get you?”
“I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger.”
Oh no.
“With a lemonade.”
Oh fuck.
“And a conversation?” Adam Winters dropped the menu and looked at me with a smile that sent my heart skipping through the roof.
My lips parted, but no sound came out. I was completely frozen in place, except for my heart. Holy hell, that thing was beating.
Me? I was dying.
“Well, I was expecting shock, but not total horror,” he quipped.
I brought my hand to my mouth and stifled a small laugh. “I’m sorry. I just—yeah. I didn’t expect you to be hiding behind that menu.”
“Surprise.” He smirked. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Uh…I have to finish my shift.” I moved uncomfortably. “It’s like thirty minutes. Can you wait?”
“I didn’t order a burger to sit and stare at it, Red.”
A shiver went down my spine at the nickname. “Oh—you, you actually want the food?”
He scratched at his jaw, grinning. “Yeah. If I’m coming in here, I’m breaking my diet.”
Of course. Of course he wanted food. Ugh, I was an idiot.
“Okay. Sure. What burger was it?” I swallowed.
“Bacon cheeseburger.”
“And a drink, was, uh…”
“Lemonade.”
I scribbled it down. “Is that everything?”
“Do I get that conversation?”
I nodded.
“Then that’s everything.” His smile was lopsided.
I dipped my head to hide my own. “I’ll be right back with that lemonade.”
It took everything I had in me not to run back to the counter and punch the order through the kitchen on the machine. My co-worker was still standing there, and she looked at me with a twisted smile.
“Is that Adam Winters?”
I nodded.
“Do you know each other?”
I cleared my throat. “You could say that.”
“You slept with him.”
“That’s neither here nor there,” I replied.
“So, what’s he here for? To deny his undying love for you? To profess his desire to have your babies?”
I coughed on my own spit. Seriously. “What are you smoking? No, here’s not here for that!”
She raised her eyebrows. “Girl, how do you know?”
“Because it’s not like that.”
“Yeah? Is that why he can’t stop lookin’ at you like you gonna be his dessert?”
I glanced over at him, and Yvonne was right. He was staring at me, a smile on his lips.
“Oh God,” I moaned, my cheeks flushing bright red.
“Mhmm,” she said, looking at me. “This more than a booty call, huh?”
“I get it from Avery at home. You stop it.” I tapped her with my pen and walked out of our station. “Don’t you have customers to serve?”
She glanced over at Adam appreciatively. “I’d like to serve yours,” she said with a wriggle of her huge bosom.
“Oh sweet Jesus,” I muttered. “Well, he wants a lemonade. You’re free to handle that.”
She tugged down her shirt and adjusted her boobs. “I got you, baby girl.”
I walked off, shaking my head and smiling. Lord, she was something else.
***
“Whatever Yvonne said to you, ignore it,” I said as Adam pushed open the door to the restaurant and held it open for me.
He half-grinned. “She’s a character.”
“You literally don’t know the half of it.” I shook my head and pulled my purse up onto my shoulder. “Where do you want to go?”
“I figured we could go to the park. I doubt you want to go all the way to my place, and I guess Avery isn’t at work?”
“She’s home.” And she’d have a field day if I took you with me…
“Park it is.”
We fell into step beside each other. My fingers twitched, and it felt weird to not reach for his hand. It’d happened so naturally when we were in Key West. Our hands had simply gravitated toward each other.
Adam stuffed his hands in the pockets of his shorts. Did he feel the same? I knew I felt weird. I couldn’t believe he was actually in front of me—or next to me, whatever. It was all the same.
And I was not over him. Not even a little bit.
Damn it.
We turned to the park, and I let him lead me to a private spot where nobody would see us. I was grateful for that—I didn’t fancy my face plastered over sports pages or whatever.
I sat on the grass and put my purse down next to me. Adam sat opposite me, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out while I leaned back against a tree trunk.
“How are you doing?” he asked, looking at me with his bright blue eyes.
“I’m good,” I said, somewhat evasively. “You?”
“I’m good. Training. Working.”
“Yeah, Avery was watching you on TV yesterday. Something about a sponsorship deal?”
His eyebrow quirked. “You didn’t watch?”
“I have no interest in sports,” I reminded him. “Why would I watch?”
“I’m pretty interesting.”
“Depends who you ask and whether or not it’s dark and there are sharks around.”
He choked back a laugh. “How’s your foot?”
“Healed. I saw a doctor when I got back just in case. Just a slightly deep cut from a stone, so you were right.” I shrugged. “But it solidified I’m never getting in the ocean in the dark again.”
“I’m right there with you on that, Red.”
Why did that once-hated nickname now give me chills? Damn damn damn it.
“So. Why’d you come find me at work?”
His eyebrow went up again.
“That came out a little blunt.” I bit the side of my bottom lip. “I mean. Shit.”
Adam laughed, dropping his head back slightly. “I get it. I should have called you. Sorry.”
“Eh, it’s all right. I needed to call you anyway.”
“You did?”
“Don’t even think about it. I asked you first.” I pointed at him.
He held up a hand with another laugh. “Okay, okay. Your dad called me this morning.”
Oh no.
“Oh no.”
Adam looked at me with a wry smile.
“Wait—how does my dad have your number?” I frowned. What sense did that even make?
“He…kind of asked me for it at the wedding. I didn’t see how I could say no. I didn’t think he’d ever actually call me.”
I rubbed my temples. “Sweet baby Jesus on drugs. I bet I know why he called.”
