Page 52 of Pucking Sweet

“You dodged a bullet, Pop.”

I look down at the little silver dish of peanuts. “He told me I was gonna die alone.”

Tina slaps down her bar towel. “No.”

“Yeah, apparently I’m insufferable, and I’ll be alone forever.”

Her dark eyes flash with rage. I know if Anderson were here, she’d knee him where it hurts. “That’s ridiculous. Poppy, you’re a catch. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

I just shrug, popping a few more peanuts in my mouth. “Well…”

Tina leans over the bar. “I mean, you’ve moved on, right? Oh please, Poppy, tell me you’ve moved on—”

“Ohmygod,” I cry, leaning away. “Of course I have. Are you serious? Tina, I moved on from that relationship while I was still freaking in it. I was like a zombie by the end. Seriously, I think ‘Thriller’ was playing when I escaped the house and climbed in that getaway car—thanks for the keys, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.” But she’s not distracted by my humor. “And you know that’s not what I meant—”

“Tina!”

She growls and spins around. “Darius, if you can’t man the bar without me fortwofucking minutes, I’m gonna fire you and hire a waiter robot, and I’m gonna dress it just like you in those stupid fucking glasses, and I’ll call it Better Darius!”

He grumbles but turns away.

I sink back on my stool, sliding my empty glass over to her. “I can’t keep distracting you while you’re working.”

She grabs my wrist. “No, Pop, hold on a sec.” I lift my face to look at her. Always a mistake. Christina Renoux can read me like a book. “You’ve moved on, right? By that, I mean you’ve been with other people since Anderson…right?”

Oh, goodness. Am I about to cry in this club? I shake my head, pulling away from her.

She sighs, letting me go. “Oh, Poppy.Why?”

I blink back my tears. “I guess he just made me feel so awful by the end, like it was a chore to love me, and like I wasn’t any good at it anyway.” I tuck my hair back behind my ears. “I’ve just been, you know, handling it myself.”

“Oh, Pop.”

I look up to see tears rimming Tina’s eyes and a surge of frustration races through me. “Don’t you ‘Oh, Pop’ me!”

“For three years, Poppy? You’ve been feeling this way, and you didn’t tell me?”

I slap both my hands down on the bar and lean forward. “Yes, okay? I’m sad and lonely and damaged, and I’m running out of new ways to give myself pleasure. Happy, Miss Nosey?”

“I swear, I am gonnakillthat guy.”

“Don’t bother. He’s marrying my sister. Vi will be torture enough for three lifetimes.”

We both smile, then we’re laughing. It takes us a minute to recover.

“Alright, new game plan.” She grabs a shot glass and fills it with tequila. “You’re gonna take this, you’re gonna down it, and then you’re gonna go out there and find something pretty to dance up on.” She points over my shoulder out to the dance floor.

“Tina, no—”

“Yes. Time to clean off those cobwebs, girl.”

“Tina!”

“You are gonna have sex with a man. Tonight.”

I look down at the little shot of tequila, heart racing. “Tina, you’re crazy. This is a work function. My players are here. I can’t do this now—”