Her short dark bob is in natural waves, her bangs framing those brown eyes that never leave mine, like she’s studying me. Trying to figure me out. Even I can’t figure me out right now.
This scandal has rocked me, and I’m not someone that gets rocked easily. The marred reputation I can handle, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. In fact, my playboy persona is certainly something I live up to most of the time.
But the thought of losing everything I’ve worked for? There’s a constant knot tightening in my gut at the lack of control I have over the situation.
The last I heard, my team was handling it. Brooke would be trying to find some way of spinning the story, controlling the narrative online, and Jason would be trying to put out the fire with Chase Montgomery, trying to convince him that the scandal isn’t worth forfeiting the publicity—not to mention profits—I bring in for Nuclear.
Dan is the go-between, but he still doesn’t have any updates on the matter, and I doubt he’d loop me in right now even if he did. He wants to keep things under wraps until they have more information either way. So, for now, I’ve been crashing in my brother’s basement guest suite and spiralling.
“That was pretty rough, huh?” Poppy asks.
All I can do is nod. I’m not sure if she means for herself or for me. But I’ve already forgotten about my humiliation with the condom situation. I’ll get Mason back for that another time.
My thoughts have been stuck on the way Poppy looked when Wren brought up Crush. Like she was embarrassed to admit that she’s dating, or even wanting to.
“Thank you again for the gift, by the way. I don’t even know how you put it together. But I’ll treasure it, really.”
I wink at her. “I have my ways.”
Adorable pink splotches appear on her cheeks.
“My dad used to keep a lot of them, and I found them when I was moving, and going through old boxes. I thought you’d like to have it,” I admit.
Poppy has always had an affinity for anything haunted or hair-raising, and as soon as I found the newspaper story, I knew she’d love it.
“It’s incredible. It makes me love that place even morethan I already did,” she says. “I want to try and communicate with it, the ghost. Maybe it has a trick for opening that one sticky cabinet in the storeroom.”
She chuckles, though it comes out kind of awkward and shaky. It’s like she’s nervous around me and I wonder why. I’ve known Poppy forever, practically. She’s been like a little sister to us Landry’s.
At least, she should feel like a little sister.
I was always off skiing through the winter, or training, so my time around Poppy was more limited than my brothers’. We were never as close, but that’s not to say I’ve never noticed her, never given her any thought.
I know all her funny quirks, her oddball interests that make her uniquely her. They give her a peculiar kind of charm that I’ve always liked. She never tries to be anyone she’s not, and I’ve always admired it about her.
I’ve always liked Poppy a little more than I should.
“I hear it’s smart to be on good terms with any ghosts you may have.”
She nods in agreement. “Do you have any?”
I chuckle softly. “No, not that I know of. My house is fairly new, but who knows?”
A silence hangs between us, but Poppy smiles at me, before letting her gaze drop down to the ground in front of her.
“I’m sorry. About your aunt,” I say.
“Thanks,” she answers softly, her voicing making way for another silence. “You don’t need to share your condoms with me, you know.” She murmurs, glancing up at me, and I catch a hint of a smile on her face.
I let out a laugh, despite myself.
“No? I’d think you’d have plenty of matches on Crush,” I tease, and that endearing blush returns to her cheeks.
She rolls her eyes. “You’d be surprised.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re probably fighting men off with a stick.”
As I say it, a pang shoots through my chest. It’s true, I do think Poppy could have her pick of men, but the thought of that gives me a sticky, unsettled feeling.
