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Rowan
Poppy slumped into akitchen chair and put her head on the table. “Damn Lauren, and her delicious cocktails.”
I chuckled and checked the dough I had rising on the counter. “I’m sorry. In her defense, you sucked them down pretty fast.”
“They didn’t taste like alcohol.” Poppy lifted her head and gave me a bleary-eyed stare. “I figured they were weak.”
I shook my head. Poppy groaned and put her head back on the table.
“I’m making you monkey bread,” I said, pulling a clump of dough from the bowl.
“With pecans?” Poppy mumbled into the table.
“Sure.”
“And bacon.”
“Um, that’s not usually in monkey bread, but why not.”
Poppy propped her head in her hands and watched me form the dough into balls and roll them in melted butter, cinnamon, and sugar. I hummed while I whisked together brown sugar,butter, and cream in a saucepan, cooking it until a rich, golden caramel formed.
“You got laid, didn’t you?” Poppy said.
I’d been so focused on what I was doing, I’d almost forgotten she was there. I snapped off the gas burner and grabbed the pecans from the cabinet, ignoring her question.
“Yep,” Poppy said as I started assembling the monkey bread in a Bundt pan, layering the pecans, dough, and caramel.
“Shoot, I forgot the bacon,” I said. “I should have made it before the caramel.”
Poppy waved her hand. “We can add it on top after the bread bakes.”
I slid the monkey bread into the oven and set the timer while Poppy studied me like a specimen under a microscope. After all the exertion of last night and working in the kitchen this morning, my back was begging me to lie down and stretch. Poppy had other ideas.
“So, are you and Cal a thing now?” she asked as I tried to escape the kitchen.
I let out a sigh. Poppy wouldn’t rest until she had an answer, and I worried she’d get sick if she tried to follow me upstairs. “Do you want coffee? It would help with your headache, assuming you have one.”
“Of course, I have one,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t see how you don’t after a night of those demon drinks.”
“Cal and I shared them,” I said pouring her a mug. “You and Lauren drank twice as many as I did.” Poppy may tell people she drank her coffee black like her soul, but I added enough sugar and milk to qualify it as a dessert.
“I hope she’s just as hungover as me,” Poppy said, rubbing her forehead.
I laughed and handed her a mug. “She was opening Karma when I texted her at five to make sure she was ok. She has a freakishly high tolerance for alcohol.”
“That would have been good information to know before last night.” Poppy took a sip of coffee and groaned. “So how did you take care of me and sleep with Cal? Please don’t tell me you did the nasty in my studio.”
I pulled out a chair and joined her at the table, even though sitting made the pain in my back worse. “What was the last thing you remember?”
“Watching a chick who looked like Cammie sing.”
“That was Cammie.”
“Really? Was she good or was that the booze?”
“She was amazing.”
Poppy nodded. “Glad I remember it. But honestly, everything after that is fuzzy. What happened?”
