Page 27 of Smooth Talk

Me: Yes. *huff* I can’t get anything by you. So, what do you say to dinner?

Poppy: LOL

Poppy: … … …

Is she freaking laughing at me? Am I that bad at this? I thought we’d really hit it off the other night. I’d felt something when I held her in my arms. Deep in my bones. Surely, I wasn’t the only one. Shit. I thought I was a good judge of character. Maybe her walls are higher than I anticipated.

Poppy: I Can’t. Girl’s Night. Sorry

She’s turning me down. I can’t believe it. The first woman in the history of ever, is saying no.

Me: Please tell me you didn’t just text your girlfriends to make plans so you technically wouldn’t be lying to me

Poppy: No, nothing that nefarious… Technically, my plans consist of popcorn, pizza and princess movies. Harper’s pretty particular about our slumber parties

Does she really have plans or is she not interested? Or she could just be making me work for it. If it’s the latter, I’ll put in overtime. I need to see her again. Surely, I didn’t misread the lust I saw in her eyes or the way she shivered when I touched her or the way her body leaned toward me every time, I got close.

Ms. Monroe needs to learn a thing or two about me. First, I thrive on challenges. And second, I don’t give up easily. Especially not when it’s something I want. And I want her. Bad. And since I’m no quitter, I text back.

Me: That works out perfectly because I’m free Saturday. We can go then. Do you have any preferences or allergies?

Poppy: I didn’t say yes

Me: You haven’t said no

What else does she have going on, maybe she can’t find a sitter on short notice? Or maybe she really doesn’t like you, dickhead and she’s politely turning you down. No. That can’t be it. My inner monologue needs a pep talk.

Poppy: I’m actually busy all weekend, as you well know

Me: ???

Poppy: I’m putting the final touches on Rose Cottage. Mimi’s moving in Sunday. We’re having a casual get-together at noon to celebrate. Ringing any bells? This is your official reminder—you RSVP’d to your Evite.

Beverly RSVP’d to that invite; I’d momentarily forgotten, but she doesn’t need to know that. And why is she calling my grandmother, Mimi? That’s what she insists the family call her. Anyone that doesn’t fit that description calls her Rachel or Mrs. Townsend.

Me: So, you’re calling her Mimi now?

Seems my family is just as taken with this woman as I am. Poppy had called her Mimi at the party too, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I was more preoccupied with how amazing her body felt pressed against mine. My brain was half focused on our conversation and the other half was busy talking my dick down from the ledge of full-fledged hard-on territory. He seemed more than happy to dive right off that ledge and into Lake Poppy. And while that thought was the exact opposite unpleasant, I’m doing shit right this time, damnit. So, I pretended I wasn’t rocking a semi for the majority of our time on the dancefloor. I know she had to have felt it. It grazed her stomach more than once. She just felt so good in my arms. She felt right. Fuck, I’m getting hard now just thinking about it.

Poppy: She asked me to

Me: Do you charm everyone you meet, or is it just my family in particular?

Poppy: It’s a gift. Winky face emoji

Me: So, I’ll see you Sunday then?

Poppy: Yes

Me: It’s a date

Poppy: It’s NOT a date

I don’t respond. One way or another, I’m taking out Poppy Monroe on Sunday. If she wants a chase, I’ll lace up my running shoes. Looks like all that marathon training is about to pay off.

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