Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Poppy

"Oh my god!" Harper gasps. "Did you have to use the wasp spray? Did you do everything I told you to do? It worked, didn't it?"

"No!" I snap, pressing the phone closer to my ear as the man in the seat next to me on the bus glances my way. "That's not why I called."

"But you called me four times in a row."

"It's an emergency, but not that kind." I inhale, still trying to catch my breath. "Julian kissed me. I mean, he made my knees weak and my heart pound. I think I need a defibrillator on standby. It was a soul-stealing kiss."

I hear the busy streets of Paris in the background as Harper maneuvers her way through the crowds.

"Tell me everything!" She squeals so loud I have to jerk the phone away from my ear.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm American; my voice can't go lower than this." She snaps at some poor soul, "And my best friend just got kissed. You should approve of the romance; you're French! It was you all who invented the ménage à trois."

I cover my face with my hands. Even through the phone, she managed to embarrass me.

I do my best to whisper everything that happened, but rehashing the event only makes my body tingle and my mind go into the black hole most women find themselves trapped in.

Was I a good kisser? Did my breath smell? Was I too bold or too shy?

"Do you think this is all a mistake? He's my neighbor after all; we should keep things, well… neighborly."

"Neighbors borrow sugar all the time. Let him get some sugar."

I roll my eyes. "I'm serious." I insist.

The bus stops for the second time. I only have three more stops to compose myself.

"Why are you panicking?"

"I'm not." I lie as I wiggle on the bus seat.

"Poppy, I know you; you're in a hyperdrive of overthinking right now. You have a man hunting you, a man you like, and one I approve of. Just let things unfold naturally."

"I just don't want to get hurt or make a mistake. This is supposed to be the start of my new life."

"Getting hurt and making mistakes is living, Pops. You have been living in a shell; you have to come out of your hole and expose some skin. I don't want you to get hurt either, and I'm doing everything I can to ensure you don't."

My eyes narrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh shit… Poppy, the tour I booked at the Louvre is about to start, and I still need to find my tour group."

"You're deflecting," I call her bullshit. "What did you do?"

"Listen. Stop stressing. I did a little digging just to make sure your sexy-as-hell man next door isn't a stalker with a dozen bodies buried in his closet. A simple thank you is all I need."

I squeeze the phone so tight it might crack, "You hacked him!"

This wouldn't be her first offense. I made the mistake of telling her about trying a dating website; five hours later, I noticed edits to my dating profile and much better photos of me uploaded. Right away, I knew it was Harper. She also filtered through the men she didn't approve of.

Once again, our relationship isn't conventional; Harper is my best friend, but she's also like my mom, my embarrassing crazy aunt, and, yes, my older brother. If I knew how to hack, I'd do the same. In the age of online dating, females have to watch each other's backs.

My shoulders slump when I think about my brother. I wonder if Henry is happy now that he doesn't have to see me daily. Does he now walk into our parents' company with a wide grin and no longer that stern exterior?

"Hacking versus digging around is vastly different, Pops; gosh, I thought I taught you the proper terminology by now."

"You know what I mean," I stress as the bus rumbles on.

"Listen to me, compose yourself, focus on your new job, and trust me, today will be epic."

I lean closer to the window, "You know something. I hear it in your voice." What is she up to? It's like she's a crystal ball that knows how today will end.

"Just… well, fate is preparing to throw you a positive curve ball. Just embrace it. Loosen up your loins."

"God, Harper, no one says loins anymore." I press my palm to my flushed cheeks.

"I have to keep you on your toes. Listen, I have to go. Just tell me one thing."

"What?" I reply. I grab my bag and pull out my makeup kit. Pressing some powder on my forehead and cheeks to hide the redness.

He said he was going to ravage me one day. My sex squeezes at the thought.

"Did you wear the pink or red lace panties?" Harper asks.

"I'm hanging up." I hiss.

She chuckles. "Love you."

"Love you, too," I reply, ending the call.

The bus begins to slow at my stop. I stand with shaky legs, unsure if it's all due to Julian, the stress of a new job, or that Harper knows something I don't.

Maybe Harper is right; I just need to embrace the Texas lifestyle, grab the bull by the long horns, and enjoy the ride.

Worrying only creates more stress; hope, on the other hand, can make even the weakest and most damaged souls feel like they can conquer the world.

I want to conquer my new job and my new neighbor.