Poppy: Did you miss the bit where I said you’re not part of it? Besides, don’t you have anything better to do?
Braden: Not that I can think of. Well, there is, but it would require teleportation. Damn that it’s not invented yet.
Okay, so he’s fun… and somewhat growing on me. But I’m not equipped to handle a guy like him. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to ward off his advances until I crack. And then what? If I’m already feeling guilty for simply talking to two guys, how will I feel if something inappropriate happens?
Poppy: I need caffeine to deal with you and your innuendos.
Braden: Get some coffee and sustenance and come back to bed with a book picked out. No cheating. You can’t start it until I’m ready.
Poppy: When did I agree to this?
Braden: Baby, you agreed the instant you responded to my text this morning. Don’t deny it. Now go get your coffee. Eat. Send me the book title. And we’ll talk in a bit.
He’s so bossy. And infuriating. And deviant. And apparently, I’m drawn to those characteristics because I’m strangely giddy at the prospect of spending the day reading together. I’m in way over my head here.
I’m prolonging the inevitable by taking my time in the kitchen. I’m not a big breakfast eater, but I’ll do anything in the name of stalling. While the bread is toasting, I grab my phone to peruse my endless Kindle library.
I’m not sure what he’s expecting, but I want a book he’ll enjoy for more than just sex. I’m giggling at the irony. He liked what I was reading on the plane, but he came in during a spicy scene, so that made it easy to hook him.
I wonder if he’d want a sports romance or if sticking to fantasy is the way to go. Better yet, I could find an office romance with lawyers. However, that could backfire if he starts thinking about someone fromhisoffice. Then again, that shouldn’t bother me, right? Ugh, this man has me second-guessing myself at every turn.
Sitting at the table while eating my toast, I continue scrolling through options until finally settling on a mafia romance. Nothing too crazy, but something he won’t know about, so he won’t annoyingly comment on everything.
Texting him the book title, I leave my phone on the nightstand and go brush my teeth as slowly as possible. I could take a shower, but that might be overkill in the avoidance department since I don’t need one to sit in bed all day.
After running out of things to do, I climb under the covers and grab my phone to a message from Braden waiting for me.
Braden: Ready whenyou are, Mouse.
Poppy: So, how are we doing this?
Braden: Let’s just start at the same time and text each other if we need a break.
Poppy: What if you read a ton faster and are ten pages ahead when we stop? Would I have to stay after class to catch up?
Braden: Boy, do I like the sound of that. We’ll play out that teacher fantasy one of these days.
Poppy: You’re such a cad.
Braden: You know you like it.
Poppy: Moving on, what’s your solution?
Braden: How about we get started and see how it goes. Ready? Set…
Poppy: Go.
I dive right in, considering this was what I’d be doing with or without Braden, and I’m immediately sucked into the story. It’s about a girl who’s been promised to a rival family’s son as a peace offering. She’s innocent and beautiful, and of course, he’s attracted to her at first sight, but hates her father and thus hates her—typical enemies-to-lovers.
Twenty minutes later, I’m deep into their first encounter when my phone pings with a text.
Braden: When do we get to the good stuff?
Poppy: Seriously?
Braden: No. But I love riling you up. How far are you?
Poppy: Page 23. You?
