Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Poppy looks like she’s about to combust. “That is the most sexually suggestive farmer’s market content I’ve ever heard.”
“I know.” Isn’t it?
She frowns. “Why do you get all the good ones? I’m so jealous. My only date in the last two weeks was with a guy who thought it was okay to video chat me from the toilet.”
Oh God.
I remember that guy.
She sighs. “I’m back on the apps, by the way.”
I did know, but grimace anyway and hold up my latte. “Godspeed my friend.”
“It’s like sifting through the lost and found at a frat house.”
I laugh at her analogy. “You’re being way too generous.”
We both break into laughter, the kind that makes several people around me glance over. I don’t care. It feels good to laugh like this.
To spiral out loud.
“Can I hit you with a truth bomb?” Poppy asks me, swirling the ice around her chai.
“Sure. Why not?”
“If a guy is willing to date you in secret just to respect your boundaries, flirt over stupid mugs, and wait until date four to kiss you even though he clearly wants to devour you alive…he’s not the red flag.”
I stare at her, straw paused halfway to my mouth. “Dude, that was so rude.”
Poppy smirks over the brim of her cup. “I said what I said.”
“You’re giving him way too much credit.”
“I’m giving him the credit he deserves.” She points at me through the phone. “You’re the one who came in here complaining about a decent guy who wants to date you as if it were a bad thing.”
“Are you calling me a red flag?”
Poppy’s shrug is non-committal. “I did not say that.”
“But you implied it.”
My best friend sips from her cup with the world’s most infuriating smirk. “If the latte fits…”
I glare at her. “I am not the red flag. I’m... cautious. Safe.”
“Yup. Safer than a seatbelt,” she deadpans.
I gasp. “Take that back.”
How dare she!
She leans back in a corner booth of her local Starbucks, the green pleather padding a comfier spot than the hard chair I’m on.
“You’re out there in the streets trying to slap warning labels on a man who’s agreed to date you in secret so your brother doesn’t get pissed. You made a no-kissing-until date four clause. He didn’t even blink.”
I scowl, but only ‘cause I can’t argue with her, dammit.
“Don’t give me that look—you adore me.” She sips away, ignoring my brooding. “If I were dating a man who spoke fluent slow-burn seduction, I wouldn’t be trying to turn it into a casual grocery run.”
I pout. “You don’t understand.”
Poppy rolls her eyes. “You’re right, I don’t. Because it would be a cold day in hell before my dumb brother dictated my happiness for no reason at all. So what—you’re twins. Big deal.”
I blink at her, stunned. “Wow. Are you trying to get excommunicated from my family?”
Poppy shrugs unapologetically. “Please. Someone has to say it—Gio doesn’t get to hold your love life hostage just because he can body-check a man through drywall.”
“That does not mean he’s controlling. Gio is—”
“A huge pain in the ass? Yeah—I know.” Poppy folds her arms. “So what’s the plan? You sneak around with the guy you clearly have very real feelings for, pretend it’s nothing, and hope Gio magically gains support for the relationship overnight?”
My mouth opens.
Closes.
“Know what’s really gonna piss him off? Him finding out you were sneaking around. That’s really gonna endear Luca to him.”
My chest tightens, and for a second, I think I might cry right here in this over-air-conditioned café surrounded by pumpkin spice and judgmental glances.
I blink hard.
Look down at my cup.
Try to gather the frayed strings of my composure and tie them into a knot tight enough to hold.
Poppy notices immediately—of course she does. Even with the distance, she’s in tuned to my moods.
“Hey,” she says gently, her voice dropping to that rare, serious tone she reserves for breakups and bad news. “Breathe. It’s okay. You don’t have to figure it all out today.”
I nod once, fast. Then again, slower.
“I’m just…” I press my fingers to my temple. “I’m so tired of always choosing between what I want and what won’t cause waves.”
If Poppy could reach across the table and grab my hand, she would. “Then stop doing that. You deserve to want things. You’re allowed to be things. Not just Gio’s sister.
I laugh, shaky and uneven. “Tell that to my anxiety.”
“Your anxiety can shove it,” she says brightly. “Your anxiety doesn’t get to veto kissing hot hockey players who say emotionally vulnerable things at dinner.”
I give a weak little laugh. “He did say a lot of emotionally vulnerable things.”
Wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater, I exhale for the first time all day. I got this.
I do.
“Babes,” Poppy says. “Gio has a family now. Gio has Austin and Vivi. Why shouldn’t you be happy? Nothing stopped him from taking what he wants—now it’s time to take what you want.”