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“What’s got your knickers in a twist, Jax?”
At her phrasing, I gave her a dry arch of my eyebrow. “Nothing.”
“It’s something,” she answered so very patiently. “No marriage proposals in the works today, I presume?”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
There was a hint of a smile on her face, there and gone in less than a heartbeat, and for the first time all day, I didn’t feel like a failure. Didn’t feel like I was completely inept at all these new things being thrown at me.
The bag on her lap crinkled when she dug her hand into it, and when she pulled out a giant box of sour candy, my eyebrows popped up.
“You eat that shit?”
“Constantly right now,” she answered. Poppy dug into the box and fished out a few of the colorful pieces, sighing happily when she chewed the first bite. “So fricken good. Want some?”
I eyed it suspiciously. “No thanks. Don’t really have much of a sweet tooth, actually.”
“Good, because I was just being polite. I’ll have this boxgone before dinner.” She ate another piece, her lips puckering up at the sour. Then she gave me a look. “You eat cookies when I bring them to work.”
“Cookies are not that,” I said, gesturing to the candy. “You know what they do to that shit to make it those colors?”
“Yeah, they create happiness from thin air, that’s what.” She ate another couple of pieces, and then settled back against the seat. “So … why are you sitting here being grumpy?”
“I’m not being grumpy.”
Her attention shifted to the crumpled envelope in my hand, and my heart thumped erratically when she studied it curiously.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said quickly. Too quickly. Her eyes narrowed.
Could I stuff the envelope back in the console without her getting suspicious? Unlikely. Poppy was curious about everything.
“Bad day at work then?” she asked.
When was the last time anyone asked me about my day?
It was so … mundane. Normal. And holy shit, did it make me feel twitchy.
I grunted. “Work was fine. And I’m not sitting here being grumpy, I just…” I let out a sharp breath and decided honesty was about the only way this would work. “I saw you and wasn’t sure how the fuck we’re supposed to be friends. That’s all. I don’t have girl friends.”
Poppy snorted. “I noticed.”
“Friends that are girls, angel,” I clarified, crossing my arms and staring out the windshield. “I don’t … I don’t know how this is supposed to work.”
She chewed slowly, a thoughtful look in her eyes that made me incredibly uncomfortable. “Being friends with someone is easy, Jax.”
I rolled my eyes. “You would say that.”
Poppy smacked my arm. “I’m serious. You find the things you have in common and talk about them. You text each other when you find something funny. Grab a drink if you’ve had a shit day”—she tilted her head—”or grab a water in my case, but whatever. You hang out. Give each other advice. Talk about the memories you have.”
I turned in my seat, all those impotent feelings snaking up my throat, looking for a way out from where I’d been bottling them up. “And which memory of ours should we revisit in our new friendship?” I asked, my chest tight and hot. “The shots? When you crawled in my bed? The second time I fucked you because I woke up hard, and you smelled so fucking good that I couldn’t stop myself?”
The words poured out fast, unstoppable as a tornado and whipping through the truck just as quick, and Poppy’s cheeks were deliciously pink when I finished. Jaw tight, I screwed my eyes shut and faced forward again, pinching the bridge of my nose when I realized exactly what I’d said.
Embarrassment had my hands trembling when I wrenched open the console and shoved the stupid fucking letter inside, then slammed the door shut. Shame had me looking away for a moment, the residual feeling coating my skin, sticky and cold and uncomfortable.
I didn’t deserve her. I don’t know why I ever thought I earned a chance to try.
