Page 42 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart (Houston Baddies #3)

thirty-four

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Turner: Hey stranger. How’s it been going?

Poppy: Hi you! I was just thinking about you.

Turner: Yeah? Thinking about texting me—or just thinking?

Poppy: Undecided.

Turner: It’s been three weeks, Poppy. You moved out while I was gone. No heads-up. No note. Nothing. Did I do something????

Poppy: You didn’t do anything. You were perfect. You ARE perfect…

Turner: I don’t know what that means. And the fact that I have to message you through a dating app because we haven’t been speaking. It makes no fucking sense.

Poppy: You want the truth?

Turner: Yes.

Poppy: I didn’t know how to say goodbye to you—I figured disappearing would be cleaner. I was wrong.

Turner: Yeah, you are.

Poppy: I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Turner. I was trying to protect myself.

Turner: From ME???

Poppy: I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would matter.

Turner: You didn’t think I would care?? You’re wrong about that, too. Cause I do care and honestly I’m super butt-hurt about it.

Poppy: I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t matter. I panicked. You were becoming everything to me, and that scared the shit out of me.

Turner: So instead of talking to me, you ghosted me. Got it. Real emotionally mature, Poppy.

Poppy: I know I fucked up. You don’t have to keep twisting the knife!

Turner: I’m not trying to twist anything—I’m here with a knife already in me, wondering how the hell it got there.

Poppy: I thought maybe if I left first, it would hurt less.

Turner: Did it?

Poppy: No. Not even a little.

Poppy: Listen, can we not argue about this?

Turner: No one is arguing. But I have the right to say my piece. You completely pulled the rug out from under me.

Poppy: You’re right. You do have that right. Say what you need to say, Turner.

Turner: I needed a damn conversation. A warning. Something.

Poppy: I didn’t think you’d want me to stay if I told you how I really felt.

Turner: I don’t know how to interpret that. How did you really feel?

Poppy: Like every second I spent with you made me want more. More mornings. More laughs. More you—and it terrified me because I didn’t think you saw me the same way.

Turner: Jesus, Poppy. You think I let just anyone stay up watching shitty documentaries in my bed? You think I casually let someone into every corner of my life?

Poppy: I don’t KNOW, Turner, okay? You’re hard to read! I’ve been hurt before and didn’t want to be the idiot who fell harder than she should have.

Turner: So instead, you made me the idiot.

Poppy: I do NOT think you’re an idiot.

Turner: Maybe not—but I feel like one.

Poppy: I repeat: I DO NOT think you’re an idiot, Turner. If I’m being honest, I think you’re everything. Which is probably somehow worse.

Turner: Worse how?

Poppy: You make my stomach flip like I’m a seventeen-year-old teenager with a crush.

Turner: You have a crush on me? Awww, that’s adorable.

Poppy: I had a crush. Now it’s a full-blown emotional crisis.

Turner: That’s hot.

Poppy: Knock it off LOL

Turner: Emotional disasters are kind of my type. Especially ones with great boobs and that thing you do with your mouth…

Poppy: You would bring that up.

Turner: The sight of you in my kitchen that first morning damn near killed me, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

Poppy: Can I make a confession?

Turner: Obviously

Poppy: I stole one of your T-shirts and have been sleeping in it. Is that weird?

Turner: Uh, no. But I’m going to need a photo. For spank bank purposes since you’re no longer speaking to me.

Poppy: Oh, it’s like that? We’re speaking to each other NOW.

Turner: It’s exactly like that.

Poppy: Are you… flirting with me???

Turner: Always.

Poppy: So NOW what?

Turner: I flirt harder, and you flirt back.

Poppy: You think I don’t know how to flirt back?

Turner: I know you do. Don’t make me carry the weight of this sexual tension all on my own….

Poppy: Poor thing. You must be exhausted

Poppy: Can I ask you something?

Turner: Yes

Poppy: You knew I wasn’t going to stay in that house very long, right?

Turner: Maybe. But I didn’t think you’d leave so soon.

Poppy: But you kind of understood why I left.

Turner: I guess.

Poppy: After that party Cash threw, I knew it wasn’t the environment I was comfortable with, NOT that that’s the reason I left. But it didn’t help, you know? And after your sister spent the night, it feels like we’re sneaking around, which makes no sense because we are grown-ass adults.

Turner: Do you ACTUALLY care what other people think? My sister is in college. Her boyfriend’s name is Blayke – with a Y. And you’re worried she’s going to judge you? Shit, she LOVES you, she’s texted me a dozen times asking how you are.

Poppy: That’s not what I meant. It’s not your sister. Or the party. Not exactly…

Poppy: It’s you.

Turner: Me? Are you mad because you have a crush on me???

Poppy: I’m one deep breath away from falling completely. And I panicked. So I left.

Turner: No. I’m done pretending like I’m not completely gone for you.

Poppy: This is dangerous territory.

Turner: Exactly. So ask me again: NOW WHAT.

Poppy: Alright.

Poppy: Now what…?

Turner: Now I date you. Properly. Not secretly. I take you out. I pick you up. We flirt with each other, and you pretend you’re the kind of girl who doesn’t kiss on the first date.

Poppy: Maybe I AM the kind of girl who doesn’t kiss on the first date.

Turner: Then I’ll just have to make the second date unforgettable.

Poppy: You’re making me blush…

Turner: I love it when you blush. I miss seeing that

Poppy: Oh yeah? What else do you miss?

Turner: I’ll tell you if you tell me.

Poppy: Deal

Turner: I miss your laugh and how your spine shivers when I’m turning you on but you don’t want to admit it.

Poppy: Ohhh…

Turner: Yeah. So fucking hot.

Poppy: Okay. My turn.

Poppy: I miss… your thick thighs. And the scruff on your jawline when you skipped a day shaving. Makes you look so rugged, and it makes me want to sit on your face.

Turner: YOU CANNOT SAY SHIT LIKE THAT.

Poppy: Oh, I think I can say whatever I want…

Tuner: Don’t stop. Keep going so I can die violently from horniness.

Poppy: Violently??!?

Turner: Might need a medic. I’m about five seconds from speeding to your house with zero fucks for traffic laws.