She bounces it off my lips a few times, and I gently take her by the hand and steady it in front of me so I can take a look at the damn thing.
“It has sparkles. Is that something girls are looking for in a penis these days?”
“The correct term isglitter. And I do believe it’s an official vampire penis.” She brings the plastic penis to her chest as if she were holding a flower. “Good question, though. I’ve never thought about what I look for in a penis. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever really got a good look at any of the penises I’ve encountered. It’s always dark and seedy, andoverbefore I can get a good look at the perpetrator who impaled the lower forty-eight.”
“Very funny. And please”—I grind my palm into my eye—“let’s not discuss the perpetrators who have impaled your lower forty-eight. That’s disgusting. And about how many were there, anyway?” Yes, I want to know. And then I want to track them down and bludgeon them all to death with this sparkling piece of manhood.
Poppy belts out a laugh. “Take a wild guess. I’ll give you a hint. It’s more than one and less than a hundred. But after I confide this delicate information to you, I expect the same courtesy. I’d accuse you of losing count, but I happen to know you’re too anal and egotistical for that.”
“Touché.” I’ve got that number. But ever since Poppy rode back into town, I don’t feel like adding to it, except maybe by one. “Okay—twenty-seven.”
“What?” She picks up a giant white bear and knocks me over the head with it. “Is that the kind of a hussy you think I am? That’s not even a nice round number!”
“Okay, okay.Fifteen. Round enough for you?”
“Better. But still in Skanksville. Wow, it’s nice to know you think so highly of me.”
“I do think highly of you. That’s why I wish that number was less than zero.”
She sinks back down next to me, batting her forest of lashes my way. “You wish I was running in the negatives? Aw, that’s sweet.” She bites down on that devious smile and giggles to herself. “Don’t tell me you wish you could have added my hymen to your beaver pelt collection. I’m betting virgin trapping is one of your favorite sports.”
I close my eyes and bang my head lightly over the back of her headboard. “I don’t know where you get this stuff, Eight Ball.”
“It’s called reality, Gordo.” That smug grin slides off her face. “I wish you weren’t such a whore.” Her voice grows small as her nails scratch lightly over my chest. “You’re a good guy. You deserve a good girl and to be happy sans running the risk of creating an entirely new strain of venereal disease.” She looks up with those sad puppy dog eyes, and my heart wrenches. “You’ve slept with everyone, Jax.” The agony in her voice, that pained expression—I’ve never felt so ashamed of what I’ve done. “You slept withLarissa.” She picks up Freddy the dragon and smashes him into my chest.
“I’m sorry.” It comes out lower than a whisper, but I mean it.
“Did you ever—youknow—fall in love with anyone?”
“Not any of those girls.” My heart thumps violently again and again as if I’m on the cusp of that very endeavor.
She nods up at me, her arm draping over my body like a shield, and it feels good like this with Poppy. “So you’re a serial fucker.” Her voice is low and threatens to break.
A dark laugh strums from me. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re vulgar.”
“You can’t stand howcuteit is.” Her cool hand slips up my shirt, and I suck in a quick breath at how good it feels.
“You got me. I think you’re cute, Pops.”
She bites down on her cherry red lip once again, and I’m dying to do just that myself.
“You know—you may have screwed a lot of people, but you’ve never made love to any. In that respect, I guess we’re both virgins.”
I have no clue where this is going, but my dick just roused to see what the hell was going on.
“Do you love me, Jaxson?” Her dark ruby lips part in anticipation. Her eyes expand wide as lily pads, and my heart, my soul detonate all at once. “Not in the romantic sense, but you know, as a good friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids. We’re practically family in a non-incestual kind of way.”
“Kissing cousins?”
“Don’t get backwoods on me. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I love you.” I trace out her features with the tip of my finger and soak in every dip and curve. “I’ve loved you since that first day I visited you in the hospital when you were born.”
Poppy trembles out a laugh. “You have no recollection of that, and you know it.”
“It’s true. I can feel it in my gut. I loved you then, and I’ll always love you.”
A thick silence fills the room as Poppy and I lock eyes. There’s something happening, a shift, a movement, the unleashing of a damn. Sometimes you just realize that the landscape of your life is changing, rearranging for the better, and for me—and hopefully for Poppy, this is that moment.
