Instead, I do what every girl should when she has an emergency. I go to my best friend.
Poppy answers her door in a crimson silk dressing gown, its bell sleeves drape elegantly and little black tassels hang off them. She looks like a movie star from old Hollywood with her hair piled on top of her head.
“How do you look like that and I look like this?” I ask, gesturing to my wrinkled jeans and t-shirt.
“Hair of the dog,” she confesses. “Kai made mimosas this morning.”
“Day drinking?” She really does belong in Hollywood.
“Just one,” she says as we walk through the hall to her bedroom.
“Is Kai still here?” I look around for him.
She shakes her head. “He’s a runner now. Los Angeles is a bad influence on him.”
“He went for a run?” Maybe they didn’t have as much to drink last night as I did. Still, I’m relieved he isn’t here. It’s not that I don’t love him. It’s just that it’s hard enough to let Poppy see me like this. I don’t think I could stand feeling vulnerable in front of both of them.
“Speaking of last night.” Poppy scans my attire once more. “It looks like you didn’t make it home.”
“I told you that on the phone,” I say defensively. Poppy had readily agreed to let me raid her closet for my impromptu meeting when I called on my way over. Considering our height difference, my options might be limited, but it’s still better than showing up like this.
“You did,” she admits, “but you didn’t tell me where you were.”
“Okay, officer, I confess. I spent the night at Sterling’s place.”
She bounces on her feet, clapping. “I knew it!”
I glare at her and she immediately freezes like I’ve hit her pause button.
“I mean, oh no!” she stammers, sounding confused. “I don’t get it. You’ve been in love with him for years.”
“I have not.” I dig in her closet, shoving hangers back and forth like they’ve offended me, too. “I was in love with him.”
“Forgive me,” she says. “I must have mistaken the fact that you haven’t had a serious relationship with anyone since him for something else.”
“That doesn’t prove anything except that men are stupid and not worth my time.” I should have that put on a shirt. I’d wear it proudly.
“So we aren’t happy about this?” she clarifies.
“Nothing happened.” I still don’t know how to feel about this. I’ve been so angry at the prospect of Sterling taking advantage of me, where did I get off being insulted that he hadn’t? Everything about him is a muddled mess of emotions that I don’t have the time or interest to sort through.
“I know he broke your heart,” she begins.
I shake my head. “It’s not that. It’s…”
“What happened?” she asks softly.
I know she’s not asking about last night. Poppy Landry is my best friend, the person I call when I need a safe place and a warm smile, but for all that we are to each other, there are parts of me I don’t show anyone. Memories too painful to share. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
She sighs heavily. We’ve been here before. “Fine. Have it your way. But even if you don’t want to talk about it, do you think about it?”
“Every day.” My voice sounds far away from me like it’s stuck in some other place and time.
“Do you really?” she presses.
“What’s the point? I can’t change any of it.”
“Those who ignore the past are doomed to repeat it,” she quotes. “Don’t doom yourself. You deserve happiness.” She squeezes my hand, knowing that now isn’t the time for a hug. Not when I’m wrapped in my shell, afraid to even look in the mirror and see what’s staring back at me. Instead, she brushes me away from the closet and rifles through it before finally pulling loose a navy blue wrap dress. “It’s too short on me,” she says as she pushes it into my arms.
I take it gratefully. She always knows exactly what I need. Right now, I need a dress, some space, and something to look forward to before I find myself lost in memories of Sterling Ford.
31
Adair
The Past
Sterling is afraid of horses. He’s not going to admit that, but I can see it. He watches with wary eyes as I check the saddles one more time. I wonder if his second thoughts are going to win out. They’re written all over his face. It’s a little funny. Adorable even.
Big, bad Sterling Ford has met his match.
“You ready?” I ask him.
“Sure.” But he doesn’t move, he just stands there with his hands in his pockets.
“We don’t have to go riding,” I say. “We can do something else. Maybe this needs to be a gradual introduction. You’ve seen the horse. Maybe you can pet him and then you can sit on him—”
He cuts me off mid-suggestion. “I said I was sure.”
“Look, that’s how I started. Slowly,” I tell him.
“And how old were you?” he asks. My mouth clamps shut and he groans. “Exactly. I’m not a kid. I can handle myself.”
“Okay, well, come over here then.” I do my best to not insult his masculinity as he attempts to climb onto the horse’s back. Once he manages to get on with his feet in the stirrups, he looks even more uncertain. “You okay up there?”
“Fine,” he says through gritted teeth. “Let’s ride.”
“Let me show you a few things first. This is Ember and he’s pretty chill.” I walk him through the harness and explain the bit. He does a good job of listening and glowering simultaneously.
“What’s your horse’s name?” He asks, clutching the reins tightly.
“Buttercup,” I say. I
