but I’m sure it’s a lot like drying off with a towel
when your nipples are tight and achy.
Every brush of the soft fabric was torture.
Cruz:
That visual didn’t help.
Delilah:
Wasn’t trying to, novio. You started this
and you’ll be just as much of a mess as me later.
When I look up from my phone, I see Poppy leaning against the brick wall, waiting for me with a dreamy smile gracing her pillowy lips. She’s also wearing a jersey that looks new. It’s in the team’s current black and teal design, matching mine, which is unexpected because she hasn’t been to a game in weeks and still isn’t speaking to Hendrix.
“Turn around,” I say, twirling my finger in the air, indicating I want to see her back. That look on her face and the new jersey. It’s clear something changed overnight. She brushes her braid over her shoulder and turns to the side, showing me her back while she beams at me over her shoulder.
“That’s a recent development. Hen must have done some serious groveling to earn another chance with you.”
Poppy gushes as we start our walk toward the stadium.
“He did. He apologized for being a colossal idiot and explained something about his past that made him think the worst of me. I get why he jumped to the conclusions he did, especially after he told me about his ex and all the ways she messed him up. And that’s not all, Janet is his Nana.”
That makes me stop on the sidewalk. “Seriously? I didn’t see that one coming. We had her pegged all wrong,” I confirm, picturing the older women Poppy and I befriended a few weeks earlier. She joined us for a night of drinking wine and watching baseball. But I never would have guessed she was Hendrix’s infamous grandmother.
“Our new friend and fairy godmother is Hendrix’s grandmother,” Poppy asserts with a chuckle.
“I pictured his grandma as this sweet old lady. The way he always calls her at night and the fact that she brings him plants. I pictured someone a little less vibrant and youthful.”
“For some reason, I kept picturing Grandma Tala from Moana.”
I snort out a laugh at that visual, personality wise it’s not far off. “I’m glad he finally listened to reason and apologized. Do you think you guys can make it work this time?”
“I do. I missed him even though I was angry with him. He’s the first guy since Paul to make me want to try, and that’s gotta count for something. How are things going with Cruz since the kiss?” Poppy glances over at me with one coppery eyebrow raised at me.
“Um . . . He took me on a date this morning. He had Saving Paws bring over some puppies to walk and had a cute canvas tent set up for lunch so we could have some time alone during a quick break from the coffee shop.”
“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m impressed that he came up with such a cute first date. Wait, that’s what it was, right, a first date?”
“Yeah . . .” I pause, debating if I should tell her about the not-so-sweet parts. But I need to talk to someone about this. “Is Hendrix a dirty talker?”
That elicits a surprised snort from Poppy. “Yeah. That first road trip after we met, the things that came out of his mouth over the phone were almost enough to get me there.”
See, now that doesn’t surprise me. But apparently I’ve done a bang-up job of being willfully ignorant to my best friend’s charms.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Poppy eyes me suspiciously.
“That sweet date turned not-so-sweet fast. Like in the blink of an eye.” I walk her through the date and how it escalated from Cruz pinning me down and kissing me, to when I asked for more and how he made me wait. I leave out most of the details because I want to keep those just for myself but give her enough to paint the picture.
She fans her face dramatically. “I’m a little jealous. That’s like, super genius dirty talk. God, you must be wound so tight right now. I’ll be careful not to brush against you. Cruz would never forgive me if I accidentally made you go off after all that work he put into getting you primed for tonight.”
I laugh dryly because it’s too true to be funny. A light breeze in the right place would be enough at this point.
“I’m honestly not sure how I am going to survive this game.”
When we get to the stadium, we stop to grab a beer and have a quick chat with Betty, our favorite concession worker. “A small one for me tonight Betty,” I tell her when she grabs the large cup.
