“What?”
“Easy, Big. You look like you’re taking the news harder than Holland did,” Poppy quips.
I unball my fists and try to relax my face muscles. I cut my gaze to her, and she’s staring back at me with a small smile tipping up the corner of her lips.
“Did he hurt you?” My question comes out in a growl. Poppy might be the most exquisite human being I’ve ever encountered, and so help me, if Holland did something to dim her light, I will personally see to it that he makes amends.
“No, no. Nothing like that. It was my choice. Your brother was a perfect gentleman.” She shrugs. “It’s my own fault. I let myself get caught up in the idea of dating Holland. I was blinded by how nice it was that he was interested in me. But I should have paid attention to the reality of the relationship and our lack of compatibility. I could have saved us both a lot of trouble.”
My head is swimming as I try to follow her train of thought, but all I can think to say is, “You’re no trouble, Boo.”
Poppy chuckles, but then it turns into a wince. “Tell that to Rose. She’s not very pleased with the thought of upending her life…again.”
I frown, and Poppy must sense my confusion.
“I told her I think we should move back to Florida.” She lifts her shoulders and lets them drop. “But it’s daunting…the thought of moving again.
My mind is still trying to catch up. “You’re leaving?”
Cashmere Cove without Poppy is the color gray.
“I’ll stay through the end of the summer. Until Heather gets back from maternity leave. That’s what I committed to in the first place.” She pauses. “But this is Holland’s hometown. There’s nothing here for me anymore.”
Well.
If that isn’t a metaphorical sucker punch to the gut, I don’t know what is. I shouldn’t take it personally, but all I want to do is scream,Hey! I’m here! What about me?
But then I’d sound like a Looney Tune, and I’ve made it a point to avoid acting like a fool whenever I can help it.
The thing is, Poppy’s friendship means more to me than I would have thought a friendship of only a month and a half could. The thought of her leaving town—of not seeing her at the café or hearing her sing through our shared duplex wall—makes me feel hollow, like a rotted-out tree stump.
“I’ll miss you.” My voice legitimately comes out in a hoarse whisper, and I am a grown man. I clear my throat.
“Aww, Big. Are you getting soft on me?” Poppy elbows me in the side, but then pulls back and rubs her funny bone. “Ow. Nope, not soft. Jeez. How do you get abs like that? Is it your sexy-time workouts?”
“Excuseme?”
“What?” Poppy’s eyes are wide and innocent. “It sounds very provocative every time you play those exercise videos. The walls in The Downer are paper thin. I hear everything.Everything, Big.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I stare at her, and when I realize my mouth is hanging open, I clamp it shut, but I can’t help the quirk of my lips. How does Poppy do that? Make me feel lighter—no matter the circumstances. There is something so entirely captivating about this woman and how she speaks her mind.
Good thing I have nothing to hide. I haven’t been doing anything to be ashamed of in my half of the duplex.
“It goes both ways, Boo. Think about that the next time you and Rose get in a fighting match over whose turn it is to buy tampons.”
Poppy’s cheeks blush pink—the same color as the sky behind her. She opens her mouth, closes it, and crosses her arms over her chest. “Female reproductive health shouldn’t be taboo.”
“I never said it was.”
“Then you won’t mind if I scream about periods and curse my ovaries in the future?”
“I’d welcome it. Let it all out. That’s what I always say.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Poppy mutters. “My hormones make me crazy.” She pauses, and then adds, “And itwasRose’s turn.”
“I’ll be sure to mention that next time I see her.”
Poppy barks out a laugh, but when I glance down at her, she’s staring at me with a serious look in her eye. She reaches for my hand and squeezes it.
