Owen: I hope you didn’t fall asleep on me.
Poppy: Nope, it takes me a lot longer to do that.
Owen: We have that in common. I’m sure the beers make it easier, though. You ready to tell me about your first time?
Poppy: Not really, but I suppose I have to. Rules and all. It’s kind of embarrassing.
Owen: Most are. If it makes you feel better, mine was awful.
Poppy: Luckily, that wasn’t my issue. It’s just that it was pretty recent. That’s the embarrassing part. Remember the guy I kissed that I met at the wedding? My first time was during the reception.
Owen: You’re joking, right?
Hell to the no. What the fuck? Is this the same Poppy? Shit, obviously it is. She textedmewhen I dared her to. But that means…oh fuck. My mind spins, going back to that night, running through scene by scene.Oh fuck.How is that possible? She didn’t say anything. She didn’t act like a virgin.
It can’t be true. She’s gotta be messing with me. That’s it. She knows I’m Owen.
Poppy: Is that a problem?
Dammit. That probably wasn’t the best response. I need to cover my tracks in case she’s serious.
Owen: No. Sorry. Just surprised. Is your age correct on your profile, or did you embellish it? Not interested in dating a teenager.
Poppy: LOL. It’s right.
Owen: What made you give it up to some random guy you met at a wedding and not someone you were dating? Did you feel forced?
Oh God. I’m not sure I can handle it if her answer is yes. I’m not that guy. Fuck. I’d never have tried so hard if I’d known.
Poppy: Absolutely not. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about and get it out of the way. And he knew what he was doing, so that was nice.
Owen: Was it what you expected?
Poppy: It was way better. I have no regrets, other than taking it too seriously before knowing what I was missing. I still won’t be the girl who sleeps around. I’m not saying I won’t have sex again until marriage, but it needs to be with someone I’m serious about.
I’m not sure how to respond… as Owen or Braden. I’m at a loss for words—shell-shocked from the truth. Why wouldn’t she have told me? That’s the number one question plaguing my mind. I could’ve done things so differently, been gentler, slower, more caring. Fuck. I’m an asshole. A total fucking prick.
Christ. Her second time, and I fucking tag-teamed her. Hersecondtime. My hand is practically pulling my hair out from the turmoil.
Poppy: Sorry, I know that’s a lot to digest, and you probably want someone more experienced. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt my feelings if that’s the case. We haven’t even met yet. You’re my first match, so really, it’s okay. I didn’t mean for that to come out right away. Or at all, actually. Lesson learned for the next one, huh? LOL Note to self: don’t play Truth or Dare on a first date. Not that that’s even what this is.
Fuck. She’s spiraling. I’m spiraling. I need to respond.
Owen: No, wait. I’m sorry. Just taking it all in, and putting myself in your shoes, trying to figure you out. I’m not on this app for a quick fuck. If I were, I’d be scrolling through pictures. It threw me for a loop, is all.
Poppy: Thanks, but I promise it’s fine if I’m not what you’re lookingfor.
Owen: One thing to know about me, I don’t lie. I’m very straightforward, so if something bothers me, you’ll know. And you’re exactly what I’m looking for.
After ending Owen’s conversation with plans to pick it up the following night, I’m reeling from Poppy’s revelation and can barely sleep. My mind won’t stop replaying all our interactions, searching for signs, racking my brain as I try to remember if I coerced her somehow.
Throughout the next day, guilt completely takes over, along with an unexpected emotion—possessiveness—pure and utter possessiveness of my sexy little mouse and her body. The problem is, I’m not sure what to do with it.
When she texted Owen this afternoon that she’d be out tonight and might not be home to chat as planned, it gutted me. After refusing to go out with me, who the hell is she seeing? I need answers, which means it’s time to pick up where we left off.
Braden: How about we start our book club tonight?
Poppy: You don’t give up, do you?
