“That should be fine.” The man nodded and started talking about some Star Trek show while Poppy wrote a note and taped it to a plain brown box on the sales counter. She handed it to him, and they exchanged a few more pleasantries before George left, leaving Poppy alone with Boone—though she didn’t know it yet.
He stepped out from behind the card rack, and when she glanced his way, an electric current twisted through his body. It hit him hard in the chest, and, surprised at the intensity of it, he took a moment and cleared this throat before approaching the wary woman behind the counter.
Boone stopped a few inches from her and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jean shorts, because damn if he could do what he wanted to with them—which was wrap his fingers in all that hair and kiss her into tomorrow.
“Hey,” he said eventually, because he needed to say something to fill the awkward silence between them. “I called you a few times.” Lame, he thought. So damn lame.
“I know.”
“Your phone broken?”
Poppy opened her mouth to say something, but waited a heartbeat before actually speaking. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yep,” she shot back, lifting that delicate chin of hers in a way that screamed defiance.
“Too busy in general, or just too busy to deal with me?”
She glanced toward the door. Boone got the impression she was praying to every god she knew that someone would walk inside and steal her away from him. He decided the best play here was a strong offense. He took that last step that brought him flush to the counter and leaned his elbows onto it. He was now so close to Poppy, he could smell that light airy scent from her hair and see the flecks of gold in her eyes, the faint smudge of purple on her cheekbone from the fading bruise. There was a light scar that ran from her eyebrow up to her temple that he wondered about, and he noted the pulse at the base of her neck, the way her lips were parted. She was nervous.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice low, a hint of whiskey coating the words. His heart sped up at the memory of the sounds she’d made in the lake when he was buried deep inside her.
“I think we should talk about what happened. Don’t you?”
“No.” Her reply was quick and sharp. “We don’t need to do anything, because it’s not going to happen again.” She exhaled, shaking her head. “Ever.”
Her chest rose and fell; her pupils were large and dilated. She had a delicious mouth, and he planned on tasting it again.
“I’m pretty sure it will,” he replied slowly. Her chin jutted up at that, and her lips thinned. Score one for Boone. “Happen again,” he continued, inching a bit closer.
“You’re so damn sure of yourself.”
“Can’t help it.” He grinned. “It’s kind of how I’m built.”
“I don’t like you very much,” she said, words more like a whisper.
“Is that so?” Now there was a tic by the right side of her mouth. She was as worked up as he was.
“Yes.” She nodded, finally looking up at him. “That’s so.”
“And you make a habit of having sex with men you don’t like?”
“No.” She licked her lips, and damned if his cock didn’t twitch. “Just you.”
“Huh.” He shifted a bit. The situation between his legs was getting uncomfortable. He should walk away, but couldn’t. This back-and-forth was invigorating. “If sex is that hot when you don’t like me, just think what it’s going to feel like when you’re crazy about me.”
Her mouth dropped open again, and the shock on her face nearly made him laugh, but he figured that was the wrong move. Instead, he gave her time to process.
“What game are you playing, Boone?”
“No game.”
Small patches of pink lit up her cheeks. “You’ve been home for months now, and there’s been nothing. No contact, no catching up over coffee or drinks. Now, all of a sudden, you want…” She swore and took a step back. “I don’t know what you want.”
“You avoided me for months, Poppy, so don’t lay that on me. As for what I want?” A dangerous coil of heat tightened his stomach as he walked around the counter.
“What are you doing?”
He crowded her against the wall, smiling to himself because there was no resistance. “You asked me what I wanted, so I’m going to show you exactly what it is I want.” Boone didn’t give her a chance to reply, and Lord knows she was about to. When she opened her mouth, he bent his head and claimed her lips, moving over them hotly, with intent and purpose.
She was tense for all of two seconds before she melted into him like a cloud of heat that slid over skin and settled beneath the surface. Kissing Poppy was like drowning—yet he couldn’t get enough. He slid his hands alongside her head and smiled against her mouth when he heard her moan. Her hands found his shoulders, and every inch of her pressed up against him.
He kept her close and kissed her until he was on fire with a need that would make him crazy if he didn’t get his shit together. They’d gone from zero to one thousand in less time than it took to walk the length of her store. He tore his mouth from hers and pressed small kisses along her jawline until he was close to her ear.
“Can you feel what you do to me?” He slid his hands down to her waist and around back to cup her butt and pull her closer still.
Poppy leaned her forehead on his chest, exhaling long breaths. “Why?” The word was spoken so softly, he barely heard her.
“Why?” he murmured. “What man wouldn’t—”
“No.” She shook her head and pushed at him, nearly rocking him onto his heels. “Why did you leave like that? Do you have any idea how that made me feel? I was already upset because I knew you were going to college. I got it. I was your summer fling before you headed off to fulfill your dreams of leaving Crystal Lake forever.” She looked away. “I was the cliché. Your little secret. No one even knew we were dating, because you didn’t want them to. Were you ashamed of me?”
“No.” Jesus. He ran his hands through the mess of hair at his nape and stared down at Poppy. “I just… There was a lot going on that summer, and I…” How could he explain that she was the one good thing in his life back then? That he’d guarded what they had because it was special. That everything had been amazing until that night when it all went south. And he’d been too immature to deal with any of it.
“That’s not good enough, Boone. I didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Like I didn’t matter. Like I was nothing. Like what we shared together meant nothing.” She glared at him. “Like my virginity meant nothing, and now…” She swore and took a moment. “And now you want to start something again?”
“I think we’re past that,” he replied, watching her closely. “We’ve already started. We’re already in it.”
“No, we’re not, and no, we haven’t. At least not until I deal with what happened back then. Which, obviously, I haven’t. I know I have issues letting go, but I think I deserve an explanation. Even after all this time. You owe me at least that.”