“Five.” He ignored her accusation. “I’ll pick you up.”
Poppy grabbed his forearm. “Wait!”
When she had him turned back around, she quickly pulled her phone out, opened Frankie’s profile, and tapped on the photo she’d been drooling over.
Poppy pointed to her hormone activator. “Which one is that?”
“AJ.”
AJ.
She could work with that. Yep, hemight be exactly what the doctor ordered. Well, if the doctor was prescribing her to fuck her way out of depression. “He looks like a Greek-god version of Henry Cavill with a better smile.”
“Don’t let Frankie hear you say that,” Liam warned.
She wasn’t planning on marrying him or killing him, so she doubted Frankie would have a problem with it. “Relax, I’m just window shopping.” Poppy assured him. “Stats?”
“Male, thirty-one, six-foot-three, two hundred and ten pounds, twelve percent BMI.”
Needing more, she did the universal sign for ‘keep talking’ by rolling her hands.
“He’s a good guy.” Liam paused before continuing, “He is the best guy I know.”
Poppy waited, expecting more, but when her brother remained quiet, she fought the urge to sock him in the upper arm. Instead, she gave him a verbal prompt, “Job. Relationship status. Baby mama situation.”
“No kids. Single.” He paused and took a deep breath. “He’s just got back from deployment.”
“Which branch?”
“He works in intelligence.”
Okay, that did not answer her question.
“Oh, my god! It is like getting a confession from a mime.” She sighed in frustration. “Is he funny? Is he smart? Does he drink a lot? Is he a serial killer, or worse”—she gasped dramatically as she did the sign of the cross—“does he doCrossFit?”
The corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. “He doesn’t do CrossFit.”
“Oh, thank god.” She placed her hand on her chest and bent forward in exaggerated relief.
“He’s funny. Really funny. But has a dry sense of humor. He’s the most intelligent person I know. He got a thirty-five on his ACT and a 1560 on his SATs. He was asked to join Mensa when he was seventeen. As far as I know, he’s not a big drinker. And if hewasa serial killer, he’s smart enough to get away with it.”
“That’shot.”
“It’s hot that he could be a serial killer and get away with it?”
“Yousaid he’s a good guy, the best guy you know. You don’t throw compliments like that around willy-nilly.”
“Willy nilly?” he repeated.
“So, I’m thinking he’d be like Dexter if he was a serial killer.” She smiled. “Hot.”
“You’re not going to ask about Niko?”
“Nope.” Why would she ask about the other twin?
“He plays professional baseball.”
Good for him. Poppy lifted her shoulders in a shrug as she got a page that she had a new patient she needed to go grab.
