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Issy: Did u buy her flowers?
Me: No. It’s dinner with her parents.
Issy: U should always buy her flowers.
Me: I thought this trolling stopped when I moved out.
Issy: Not trolling. Just some sisterly advice. If a guy dates me, he better bring me flowers.
Me: If a guy dates you, he better bring security.
Issy: Ur a dick. Go or ur gonna be late. And take flowers.
I rolled my eyes at my little sister. She was the youngest, but fuck me, she was the most headstrong.
Flowers would do nothing in this situation. Despite her insistence that I had to, I liked to think I knew a thing or two more about dating than my twenty-year-old sister.
And, if not, I had issues.
I stuffed my phone into the pockets of my jeans and grabbed my keys and wallet. Poppy’s dad had already insisted on buying dinner, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try to hijack that.
I locked the door behind me and headed for my car. I was nervous as fuck. Three weeks without seeing her properly—I didn’t count a twenty-minute conversation two days ago as properly—and I felt like a teen boy on his way to the prom.
I just wanted to see her again. If this was the last time I got to see her, then fine. I’d accept it. I could accept it. It wasn’t the end of the world—at least that’s what I was telling myself.
At the end of it all, Poppy was a flame and she’d burn her own way. If she really believed we couldn’t work because of what I did, then I could accept that. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.
Four days. We spent four fucking days together, and the little pain in the ass had wormed her way under my skin so brilliantly she may as well have been a part of me.
Maybe it wasn’t healthy to feel the way I did after so little time. Maybe it wasn’t fucking normal that, three weeks later, I was still hung up on the little spitfire. Maybe this whole thing was fucking weird, but I was going to roll with it.
That last night in Key West, on the beach, before she cut her foot and attracted the local marine wildlife, I felt it.
Something took hold of me, and I knew the idea of a fling was fucked. It wouldn’t be a fling. It was something more than we’d planned, and fuck, I was done.
I wanted her.
I wanted her then, and I wanted her now. Maybe more so. I should have forgotten about her by now, but I hadn’t. Not even close. She consumed me like the fire she was.
I fought off any more thoughts of her as I headed across the city to her apartment. I knew Avery would be there, and I didn’t know what to say to her. We hadn’t spent a lot of time together at the wedding, at least not enough to know if she was for or against me and Poppy.
Fuck, was this what my life had become? Wondering if her best friend was on side for us being together?
Jesus fucking Christ. I needed to get ahold of myself. I was losing my goddamn mind.
After too many minutes, I pulled into the parking lot outside their apartment five minutes early. I killed the engine and smirked as Poppy’s words ran through my mind—she was always late.
Would she be ready now? Probably not, knowing her tendency to piss off her mom at every turn.
I locked my car and headed for the building. Pressing the buzzer on the outside of the building, I waited for someone to let me in.
“Hello?” Avery’s voice crackled through it.
“Hey. It’s Adam.”
“Oh!” Silence. “It’s open!”
“Thanks, Avery.” I pushed the door open and make my way up to the apartment. My shirt felt too tight and my goddamn stomach felt like it needed to roll like a ball going down a hill.
I still didn’t know what I was doing, not even as I knocked at their door.
“It’s open,” Avery called.
Swallowing, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey!” Avery bounded up off the sofa and hugged me. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good. How are you?” I returned the hug.
“I’m good, thanks. She’s not ready yet. Make yourself at home. She’s gonna be at least twenty minutes.”
“I heard that!” Poppy yelled from somewhere in the apartment.
Avery rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Adam, sit. The girl is nowhere near ready. She’s a mess.”
“I heard that, too!” A door opened. “Shut your dirty mouth!”
I laughed into my hand.
Avery grinned. “She’s so fun to piss off,” she whispered. “Get dressed, for God’s sake, or I’m calling your mother!” she shouted.
“I hate you!” A door slammed, and Avery’s smile only got wider.
“So,” she said in a hushed voice, perching on the edge of the sofa. “You gonna tell her you like her?”
