Chapter Nine
Poppy
I can’t believe I agreed to this bullshit.
Not only am I stuck sitting across from Amber and Eddie while they pretend to be in fake relationship bliss, but they brought Wesley along, and he hasn’t shut up since we got here.
Eddie hands Amber a drink from the bar, then slides another in front of me, which I guzzle so fast it makes my head spin. “Thanks,” I mutter.
Wesley grins, watching me with deep fascination as I swirl the empty glass between my fingers, making sure to note all the exits in the building so I can slink out of here undetected.
“Damn, I’m gonna need another,” I announce, throwing a glance Wesley’s way, hoping he catches on that I want him to leave so I can catch a breath.
For some reason, when Wesley’s near me, it feels like suffocation, like at any minute I’m going to stop breathing on my own.
“I’ll get it for you!” Wesley jumps up from his seat so eagerly he nearly face plants on the step beneath us.
To my dismay, he doesn’t trip, and that famous smile of his is thrown my way, teeth glittering in the neon lights, that slight dimple dotting his cheek.
It’s exhausting how good looking he is. “Wait right here!” he adds, motioning to me like I’m some kind of wild animal that’s about to jump up and run away.
It’s exactly what I want to do, but I don’t.
I stay seated, my anger and absolute hatred for him building.
Amber gives me a sympathetic look. This was supposed to be a date with Rich, not Wesley.
“God, I thought he’d never leave,” I grumble, glaring at her like I’m contemplating all the ways I could murder her in her sleep tonight. “You owe me for this one, Amber, like really owe me.”
“I’m sorry!” she shouts, holding up her hands in surrender. “Eddie told me he was bringing Rich!”
Eddie laughs. “Like Wesley would let that happen. Why don’t you give the guy a chance, Poppy? You two look good together.”
The guy should stop smiling. If anyone’s getting murdered tonight, it’s going to be Eddie for fucking with my best friend, my sister, and God knows whoever else in this world.
“Why in the hell would I give a guy like him a chance for anything with me? In six months, I’ll be at Stanford working on my doctorate.
Someone like Wesley would only hold me back.
Could you imagine what my father would think?
Me, his golden child, dating a two-time thug?
” It’s an overexaggeration, but it’s the only defense mechanism I have to ward people off from the truth.
About the home life nobody is ever privileged to see.
I moved out of my parent’s house for a reason, and it’s not because they were strict…
it’s because they don’t care, especially about me.
“He’s not a thug, Poppy. Has he made mistakes? Sure, we all have, but that doesn’t make him a bad person.”
“His record says otherwise, Eddie.”
Eddie looks wounded. “Damn, I’d hate to hear what you think about me and Rich.”
Shrugging, I pick at my nails before firing off another blow. “Rich is tolerable. Mostly because he doesn’t speak.”
“Poppy!” Amber chastises. “Why are you being such a bitch right now?”
Eddie holds my gaze. He knows I know something, and he’s just waiting for me to spill his dirty little secret.
Maybe I should?
“Sorry, Amber. I guess I just don’t trust him. Not after everything he’s done to you.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. He looks from me to Amber and then back at his drink.
“Eddie?” Amber’s voice trembles a bit.
He guzzles the rest of his beer in one long gulp and jumps up so quickly I get whiplash. “I’m gonna check on Wesley.”
We both watch him leave, and I know what’s about to come next. I really shouldn’t drink alcohol when I’m angry.
“Alright, bitch,” she whisper yells, eyes narrowing down on me. “What the fuck aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m not getting in the middle of this already imploding circus of a relationship.
If you can’t see how wrong he is for you, that’s your problem.
” The crowd is starting to grow, and from over Amber’s head, I notice a guy staring at me near the bar.
He’s tall, with light brown hair, and is wearing jeans and a soft red flannel that hangs haphazardly over a plain gray T-shirt.
There’s a slight goatee on his chin, and his eyes, from over here, look strikingly blue.
He salutes me with his beer and grins, showing off his broken smile.
“What the hell has Eddie done to you?” Amber seethes, forcing me back to our conversation.
“Nothing. And thank God for that. But I see what he’s doing to you.” And to Pippa. But I won’t say that part out loud. That’s not my secret to spill. “He’s a liar and a cheater, Amber. You should wash your hands of him before it’s too late.”
“I love him, Poppy. You’re supposed to be my maid of honor, not my executioner. Besides, I’m just as guilty of cheating as he is.”
The fact that she believes this gaslighting bullshit is insane.
“I hate how you try to justify his infidelity by comparing it to your own. You fucked another guy. So what? You did it because even your subconscious knows how wrong Eddie is for you.” My eyes roll before I can stop them, my laughter filling the booth.
It’s filled with mockery, but she doesn’t pick up on it.
“Eddie’s not wrong for me, Poppy. I’ve never felt this way about anybody before.”
“It’s because you don’t give yourself a chance to move on. Besides the Australian hottie, he’s the only guy you’ve ever been with, and you’ve told yourself that this is the kind of relationship you deserve. It’s not, Amber. You’re above this. Above him.”
She looks down at her drink like she’s taking in every word I’m saying. Maybe deep down, she knows I’m right, or maybe she’s just afraid to say the things she’s thinking out loud.
To my dismay, Eddie and Wesley are back at our booth, ending our conversation almost immediately.
Wesley drops a drink in front of me with the biggest grin on his face, his gaze pinning me in place. That smile dismantling. I do my best to shake it off, but then he speaks, messing up everything.
“Here you go, beautiful,” he says with pride.
My eyes move to the drink he ordered for me. It’s my favorite. A bartender's special concoction mixed with fruit juice, a bit of rum, and a punch that could put hair on your chest if you’re not careful. “Thanks.” We briefly make eye contact before I break it. “How much do I owe you?”
He laughs. “Come on now, what kind of guy do you take me for? Your drinks are always on me.”
I eye my glass; the red liquid looks mighty tempting to throw. He is wearing a crisp, light blue button-down shirt. It could use more color. Red would be perfect. “That can be arranged.” My lips slide evilly into a smirk, one that doesn’t bother him at all.
“If you want to see me with my shirt off, all you have to do is ask, Poppy.” He unbuttons the two top buttons of his shirt, showing off his sculpted chest.
Look away, Poppy. Don’t fall for his charm again. He broke you last time.
“You’re delusional.”
He leans in, his slightly alcohol-tinted breath hitting my skin like a wave of euphoria.
My skin prickles with endless goose bumps, and I shift in my seat, trying to fake how attracted to him I really am.
“Maybe. But I’m also very determined. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. ”
“I was checking to see if your ankle monitor was still on.”
“Touché,” he says, grinning. “Still, I like a woman who keeps tabs on me. Feels like foreplay.”
Rolling my eyes, I playfully push his shoulder, making sure it seems more disgruntle than it really is. Honestly, this kind of banter does things to me it shouldn’t. “You are so gross.”
Ignore him.
Deny his advances.
Stay calm, Poppy.
My cheeks burn when his voice drops even lower, a seductive kind of cool that has every part of me on fire.
“And yet, here you are sitting next to me, accepting my drink, and engaging in heated conversation.”
Oh no, he must notice my flaming cheeks.
Stop it, Poppy.
Stop falling for his charm.
“Actually, if I remember correctly, you tied up my date like some roid-rage psycho and forced your presence on me. That’s called stalking, Wesley. But a guy like you probably already knew that.”
Wesley shrugs, that smile of his never fading.
“Call it what you want. All I’m saying is that if throwing a drink in my face is what gets us our first physical contact, I’m all for it.
” He says it like prom never happened, and I’m not sure what hurts worse, that he may have forgotten, or that his stupid charm is working on me.
My smirk returns, living for our banter like it's breathing life into me again. “Careful, Wesley. I’ve got excellent aim and no hesitation. You wouldn’t be the first guy I’ve ever thrown a drink at.”
“That’s okay,” he shoots back. “I’d be honored to be your last.”
That one gets me. I’m blinking blankly. My fiery comebacks hold my tongue hostage.
Don’t look into his eyes.
Don’t look into his eyes!
Crap, I looked into his eyes.
Say something before he realizes he’s getting to you.
“You’re not charming, you know that, right? You're a walking red flag with a soft jawline and the survival instincts of a moth.”
“Still here though. Flying straight toward the flame.”
“Good. I’ve got bug spray in my purse.”
Eddie lets out a low whistle, clearly trying not to laugh, while Amber does her best to hide her smile. She fails. I see it, and so does Wesley. He relaxes against his seat; his eyes still trained on me like it’s his mission in life to keep watch on me.
Stop staring at me like that!
“I don’t get it,” I blurt out. “How do you keep bouncing back? I’m verbally curb-stomping you, and you act like I’m reading you bedtime poetry.”
We lock eyes, the heat between us scalding. “Because underneath all that venom, I think there’s a part of you that actually likes that I don’t scare easily. You don’t really want a guy who backs off.”