“Are you kidding? L.A. is a vegan town. Even the cheese on this pizza would be considered sacrilegious.” Her tongue glosses the rim of her lips as the moment grows serious. “You’re a real breath of fresh air, Jaxson.”
“Wish I could say the same for you.” Truth is, Poppy is more than a breath of fresh air. She has my heart pumping once again after all these years. “Now, get over here and disinfect my mouth, would you?”
“As you wish.”
“Wrong movie,” I moan as our lips touch down over one another, careful and lingering. Her soft moans, those hardly audible whimpers of hers burn a hole right through me. I’d give all the pizza in the world to be alone with her right now.
A heavy flash comes from the living room, and both Poppy and I share a small vibration of a laugh, but our lips remain conjoined, the two of us kissing like a couple of thirteen-year-olds who have no clue what to do.
Poppy and I haven’t set any limits on what happens between the two of us with our proper audience in tow, and yet neither of us seems able to cross this line. But I want to.
Everything in me demands to cross the line with Poppy.
The endof the week shows up way too fast. Each moment I spend with Poppy seems like a flash in the pan. Soon, our mothers’ big birthday bash will be here, and Poppy will be boarding another flight back to L.A.
But tonight, the only place Poppy is headed to is the gala at the Grand Lodge Hotel where the dignified ladies of POTS celebrate a year of weight loss and charitable giving by way of a decent steak and chicken dinner. Poppy headed over with her parents, so I offer my mother a lift and we arrive at the event a solid twenty minutes late. In my defense, my mother had me run by the florist and pick up a corsage. All the way to the hotel, she lamented on the principles of how to treat a lady.
“Relax,” I say to her as we enter the noble looking establishment decked out in enough twinkle lights to outshine the sun. “I’m sure we didn’t miss dinner.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t miss dinner. We never have dinner at these kinds of events.”
“What? Why the heck am I here? I thought there’d be steak and potatoes. Should I be backtracking to the Burger Barn? Because you’re not going to like me hungry.”
“Hush, would you? I know all about how cranky you can get when denied a good meal. Trust me, I stayed up at all hours breastfeeding you for the first two years of your life just to keep you satiated.”
“And just like that, I’ve lost my appetite.” Being breastfed by my mother. Fuck.
“It’s a grazing event.” She claps her hands as if this were the best news in the world. “Lots of appetizers, all the spaghetti you can fit in that belly of yours, and a spare protein here and there.” A spare protein? Yes, the Burger Barn will very much be needed later this evening. “And be sure to open your wallet, would you? All proceeds benefit the local women’s shelter.” She straightens my tie just before we enter the facility. The ballroom is bustling with bodies, mostly polished women—all of which are my mother’s contemporaries—a few dapper, rather unhappy looking men.
“Grazing, huh?” Poppy comes to mind. Those long luscious legs, those sweet tits that have been playing peek-a-boo with me all week make my mouth water.
“Do you see her?” Mom sounds as anxious to spot Pops as I am.
“Nope.”
She cranes her neck into a sea of women all dressed in pastel. Soft music drifts through the speakers, and a few couples bravely dance away while the rest of the crowd hangs on the periphery with a drink in hand.
Mom swats me with her tiny sequined clutch. “Why in God’s name didn’t you pick her up? A true gentleman always goes out of his way for a lady.”
“She insisted we meet here.” For the life of me, I have no idea why, but I’m assuming it has something to do with the two we’re attempting to bamboozle.
And just like that, the sea of pastel parts down the middle, and a vision in red captivates me from afar.
“Holy hell,” I whisper.
“Mary, Joseph, and Peter,” Mom whispers, just as taken by the beauty smiling back at us as I am. She hands me the sickly carnation pinned to a giant spray of baby’s breath, and I head over in Poppy’s direction.
My feet glide across the dance floor, my eyes never leaving hers. Poppy’s smile expands ear-to-ear as we come in close, and I can’t seem to catch my breath at the glorious sight before me. Her hair is curled in long smooth waves, her lips a perfect shade of ruby that matches her dress, and her tits—do not get me started on her tits. I let my eyes dip down for a moment, and my boxers tick to life.
“You are beautiful.” The words puff from me.
“My boobs say thanks. Is that for me?” She snatches the flower, and I playfully snatch it right back, placing it on her hand like the prince my mother has warned me to be.
“You’re my date, Pops. I get to be the man tonight.”
“Are you implying I’m anything but a lady?”
“I’m implying that you’ve probably scared off your fair share of men by plucking the flowers right out of their hands.”
