Page 24 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

“Indeed. Just do what you need to. Stop censoring yourself and acting like if you do one thing, you’ll get better results. That’s not how life works.”

“Yeah, thanks. I already knew that,” she said. “It’s putting it into practice that’s hard.”

“Exactly. Didn’t say I’d mastered it. I mean, I still try to sneak a baseball cap on to the monthly family Zoom calls, and Liberty snatches it from my head. I don’t know if it’s like this for you, but I’ve been living with this one version of myself for so long. Trying to change that is harder than anyone’s reaction to me has been.”

When she was with Alistair, she struggled to stay in the present and not be overtaken by past expectations for herself and him. She remembered being that girl who felt as if she got the moon when he asked her out. Swept her off to a ball in Vienna and danced with her until the sun came up.

Ordinary Poppy wouldn’t get that man.

Except ordinary Poppy didn’t need big gestures; she needed truth and honesty. And a man who saw her.

“Thanks, Merle. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She ended the call feeling much better about her choices. After the divorce and realizing how wrong she’d been about Alistair, she’d started to beat herself up about every interaction she had with someone. Was she seeing who they were or what she wanted them to be?

But her instincts had always been good. WiCKed Sisters was proof of that.

She set her alarm and then pulled her face mask on, curling onto her side to go to sleep.

Except she was restless. Filled with images of her and Alistair at the bottom of the stairs, fucking against the wall. His hands roving over her body, finding just the right spots. His mouth hot on her neck and breasts as he teased her until she craved him deep inside of her. She knew exactly how he felt inside of her, and she woke up empty and aching.

Touching herself under the covers, she jumped when there was a soft rap on the door. “I’m awake.”

“Need anything?” Alistair’s voice was a low rumble through the door.

You.Her dreams had been torrid, nothing but the two of them twisting and turning together. Every way they’d ever done it before and new ways that she’d read about and wanted to try.

“Poppy?”

“I’m getting up,” she said. Right now, the Ali in her dreams was what she needed. She hopped out of bed and walked to the door, pulling it open just enough to stick her head through. “I’d kill for a sandwich and some tea.”

“Let’s skip the murder, and I’ll order in something. What do you feel like?”

“Surprise me,” she said.

She closed the door and got dressed in a pair of jeans and a light top. Her biggest problem was trying to force her life onto the path she’d plotted. More than once, she’d been knocked off of it and the good stuff had been in the weeds.

Her problem had never been trusting the universe had a plan for her. It was trusting herself to recognize it and follow it. She knew her worth this time, so when she did end up across the table from Alistair’s dad again, she wasn’t going to just back off.

But that had nothing to do with what she felt for Alistair.

If they did hook up, she knew it would be different because they’d both changed. She liked the way he was now. Not perfect, not arrogant. Sort of more human than he’d ever been before. It could just be for the few days they were both in England.

Hopefully she could finally settle on taking that risk before she was on the plane home all alone, regretting not giving him another shot.

Seven

Feeding Poppy wasn’t something that he’d ever had two thoughts about. But spending so much time apart, staring at photos of the two of them as he’d processed through his rage, guilt and failings, had changed his perspective.

She acted as if the sausage rolls and yum yums he’d ordered from Greggs were a gourmet meal.

She caught him staring at her and blushed. “Sorry, it’s just that Americans don’t do sausage rolls... I totally miss them. Also, after the flight and nap, I’m swimming in that drunk feeling.”

“Don’t apologize. Glad I could provide them. I was surprised when you texted down to order them.”

“Yeah? Remember the first time we had them together?” she asked.

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