by Vivian Wood
Fuck it, I’m going over there. Poppy’s schedule changed every week, so he wasn’t certain when she’d be off work. Her car wasn’t parked in its spot, which meant he could ambush her on the stairs when she finally got home.
He grabbed a book out of the trunk, along with a hoodie, and settled on the concrete steps for possibly hours of waiting. “You locked out?” a neighbor asked an hour later. It was an older woman with arms full of groceries.
“No, waiting on my—my sister,” he said. It might sound stalkerish if he said anything else.
“The girl in 312?” the woman asked. He stood up and took one of her bags to help her to the door.
“Yeah, Poppy,” he said. The woman shook her head. “That girl’s never gone.”
“Yeah, well. I’ll wait,” he said. By the time he saw Poppy’s car pull up, it was nearly dark and he had to squint to read in the dim stairwell lighting.
She walked up the stairs with heavy, tired steps. When she saw him, her mouth hardened. “Poppy, I’m sorry,” he said before she could get a word in.
Poppy looked at him, incredulous. “Sorry won’t cut it anymore, Ryan.”
“Come on, Poppy—”
“Don’t,” she said firmly. “Just don’t. Being sorry and then doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different outcome—that’s the definition of madness, isn’t it?”
“I know, I know,” he said. “All I can say is I’m sorry. And hope that you’ll forgive me. I don’t want all our years of friendship to be erased. They’re more important to me than anything else.” It was almost impossible to get those last words out. A lump had formed in his throat and threatened to burst.
She eyed him carefully. Calculations raced across her face, and he didn’t know how he was being judged. “Alright,” she said finally. “You can be forgiven one more time. As long as you say it.”
“Say what?” He was totally lost.
“Apologize for what you did, specifically, and I’ll be satisfied with that.” Her eyes carried a calmness, a coolness, that he’d never seen in her before. He couldn’t tell if it was a challenge or a dare, but he would have done anything in that moment.
“I’m sorry that I hit on you again. That shouldn’t have happened.”
“It shouldn’t have happened because…” she prompted.
“Because you have a boyfriend.”
“Because we’re friends,” Poppy said as she rolled her eyes. “Best friends. Not because of some guy, but because you should respect me more than that.”
Ryan lowered his head, truly ashamed. She was right. Why was he deferring to that jackass Will? It was about Poppy, about their friendship. He knew that. Ryan felt like a dog with his tail between his legs.
There was a part of him that wanted to argue with her. Make her admit she felt something between them, too—that he wasn’t alone in the attraction. But for now at least, he had to push that urge away.
Poppy didn’t say anything more, but she didn’t break her gaze. She was still deciding something, still unsure. Finally, she gave a slight nod and moved past him.
“Are you coming in?” she asked with a sigh as she unlocked the door.
Ryan followed behind her. “I need to change,” she said. “I wasn’t up for facing the locker room today.” She took her knapsack and went to her bedroom. She pulled the door behind her, but it didn’t close completely. There was a tiny crack, not enough to see anything even if he tried, but he couldn’t help but stare at it. Did she want him to follow her?
He sat on the couch, torn. Just knowing she had stripped down just a few steps away, that she was probably naked and sifting through her dresser, he got hard instantly. It put him on edge. “My Netflix has been weird,” she called from the bedroom. “Maybe you can get it to work, though.” Unable to stop, like something deep inside directed him, he leaned back to see if he could spot her.
And there she was. At the right angle, he saw her in violet underwear and no bra, though her back was to him. She’d untied her long blonde hair, and those now-familiar dimples on her lower back—the ones that seemed like they were made for his fingers—teased him as they rode right above the lace fringe of the violet material.
“Or I think I still have my Hulu subscription, if there’s something on that,” she called as she pulled on silk pajama bottoms and a pink tank top. “Will usually fixes it, but he’s stayed longer in LA.” With a practiced hand, she pulled her hair back up into a high, messy knot. “He seems to be doing good though. ‘Making contacts’ and all that. I mean, I’m happy for him, but it feels like the distance isn’t really making the heart grow fonder, if you know what I mean.”
She’d left the bra off. His cock jumped in his pants. He grabbed a throw pillow and put it over his crotch.
“But you know, I’m sure all that will be fixed when he comes back. Distance is hard,” she said.
He couldn’t agree more. Ryan pressed down on the cushion, trying to stop his erection in case she wanted him to get up.
“Ry?” she asked. Her head was poked out of the bedroom. “Are you listening?”
He realized he hadn’t said a single word since she went in the bedroom. “Yes,” he said with a smile.
“Okay. You’re being quiet. I want to wash my face; I feel gross after that fourteen-hour shift. Want to order a pizza and find a movie to watch?”
“Yeah, sure. Georgie’s okay?” he asked.
“Whatever. You’ll be the one eating ninety-five percent of it.”
He heard her pad into the bathroom en suite and the water turned on. Ryan looked up the takeout number on his phone and called in the order. “No onions,” he said.
“You sure?” the girl asked on the other end. “We have caramelized onions that—”
“I’m sure,” he said.
He toyed around with some of the Netflix settings until the error message disappeared. As he flipped through the recommendations, new releases and recently added titles, he was acutely aware of any plots that might be awkward. Romcoms were mostly out. Dramas were probably going to be too depressing. He was way too riled up to deal with subtitles, so that took international films out of the running.
By the time he heard the water stop, he was down to horror and thrillers.
“How long?” she asked as she emerged from the bedroom. Her face glowed. Without any makeup, she looked so young—like they were in high school again.
“Thirty, forty-five minutes,” he said.
She made a face. “I’m hungry.”
“It’s coming.”
“Horror?” she asked as she curled up on the other end of the couch. Was that intentional? Is she trying to keep her distance, or do we always commandeer opposite ends of the couch and I’ve never noticed?
“Not in the mood?” he asked.
“It’s fine,” she said. “You’ve just never taken a real interest before.”
He shrugged. “Things change.”
“Yeah,” she said, and stole a glance from the corner of her eye. “I guess they do. Just nothing too over the top,” she said. “I hate that. Gore for gore’s sake. I feel like I get enough of that in the ER rounds.”
He’d forgotten about that. About what her day must look like. “How about this?” he asked.
“Oh wow, Ryan. Visiting Hours? Seriously?”
“It’s got William Shatner in it!”
“The guy from the Priceline commercials? The one with Penny?”
He groaned. “I think you mean Captain Kirk.”
“Whatever,” she said. “He’s the guy in the commercial with the Big Bang girl to me.”
“Not feeling it?” he asked.
“Actually, it sounds good. I could use some mindless entertainment.”
“You know, I just realized there’s a lot of horror and thrillers about doctors. The Island of Doctor Moreau. Dr. Giggles!” he said as he flipped through recommendations connected to Visiting Hours.
“Don’t give me any ideas,” she said. �
��I’m so hungry and tired right now, I really could go on a murder spree.”
He laughed and finally felt his erection subside. This, them being in their groove, was what he was possibly giving up. And for what?
Ryan started the movie and Poppy grabbed a blanket from the end table. She didn’t have to say a word—just handed half over to him.
You can do this. It’s just Poppy. Why ruin this because of some stupid attraction that’s probably fleeting anyway?
By the time the doorbell rang with the pizza, she had moved to the center cushion and dozed off. Her head was in his lap, resting on the pillow. If only she knew the stirring she caused just a few inches below that quilted, flowery throw pillow.
20
Poppy
Poppy shrugged out of her jacket, untied her scrub pants and let them fall to the floor. She sat down on the bench in just her underwear and scrub top, too tired to care if any of the other interns came in. She was exhausted, but finally finished with one of the most grueling shifts yet.
Throughout the day, thoughts of her pizza and movie night with Ryan swam through her head. Everything should have been normal. They’d had similar nights ever since she could remember. But something was off, and she couldn't quite place it.
She felt a shift more than anything else. The way Ryan looked at her, and it wasn’t just him. Poppy caught herself as she stole glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. When they caught each other, a shot of excitement and nerves raced through her. Her heart kicked like never before, and try as she might, she couldn’t make it stop.
After he’d left and she tossed and turned in bed, she almost reached for her vibrator. It was a gift, perhaps a gag gift, from Sarah years ago. She’d used it a few times. It was a bullet, small and unassuming—and the only thing that brought her to orgasm. She resisted for a moment, knowing she’d just end up thinking about Ryan and that was the last thing she needed.
What the hell, why not? Poppy pulled the vibrator out of the drawer and slid, naked, under the covers. On its lowest setting, she held the vibrator against her nipple and closed her eyes.
One of her hands glided down her belly to her clit, already throbbing. Her wetness had already started to spread. Poppy bit her lip and moved the vibrator to her other nipple.
Suddenly, it was Ryan’s hand between her legs. “I love how wet you get,” she imagined him saying to her. She spread her legs wider below the covers.
He slapped her clit lightly with his palm and it made her gasp. She put the vibrator on her clit and turned it up a notch. In her mind, it was Ryan who held the vibrator to her, while he kneeled between her legs and stroked himself.
She bucked against the vibrator. Now it was his tongue on her, and he lapped her up like he couldn’t get enough. Her insides ached to be filled with him. “You taste so sweet,” he whispered up to her. She dove a finger into her pink folds and tasted herself.
Ryan’s five o’clock shadow raked lightly across her center, and it made her call out his name. “Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he said. She turned the vibrator up another click.
It was all she wanted. “Please,” she said. He put just the tip in her opening.
“Is this what you want?” he asked. She turned the vibrator to its highest setting, and he plunged all the way into her.
One hand held the vibrator between her legs, slippery from her wetness, while the other pinched her nipples.
Beside her, the phone buzzed with a text. She glanced at it and saw Ryan’s name pop up right as she climaxed. It was hard and intense, enough that it instantly knocked her out.
In the morning, she awoke to a nearly dead phone and a vibrator pressed against her thigh and covered in her dried come.
Her fantasy stuck with her for the entire shift. She was a little shocked about how wildly she’d used the vibrator. It was the first time it had ever made her come like that—maybe the first time she’d really come at all.
Once, when she’d had too much to drink, she’d brought up Will using it on her but he balked at the idea. Embarrassed, even in her alcohol-infused state, she’d never asked again.
Poppy shook her head as she kicked off her ortho shoes in the changing room. Why had she waited so long to make herself feel like that?
“Oh my God, that was a bastard of a shift.” Penny slumped down next to her and kicked off her Danskos.
Poppy straightened her back, on high alert. She still felt weird about her last interaction with Penny.
“That Doctor Know-It-All seriously needs to lighten up,” Penny said and wiggled out of her scrubs. “As if these shifts aren’t beastly enough without her up in our face.”
She relaxed. It seemed like Penny wasn’t put off by their last conversation after all.
“How’s Will doing?” Penny asked as she pulled on jeans. “When’s he coming back?”
“Friday or Saturday, just a couple more days,” Poppy told her with a smile.
“Yeah? You must be excited. And how are things with Ryan?” Penny didn’t look at her, but pulled a threadbare T-shirt over her head. “Is he still trying to mack on you?”
“No!” Poppy said. Even she was aware of how defensive she sounded. “We’re just friends—”
“Relax, I’m just playing,” Penny said.
Nobody could ever know what had happened between her and Ryan. Especially someone who knew Will. Those lines they'd crossed, the line she'd almost thrown herself across, those had to be their secret for good.
“It’s not funny,” she told Penny curtly, and pulled on a flowy skirt.
“Sorry,” Penny said. Poppy shrugged. “No, for real. I didn’t know you were actually mad about it.”
“I’m not mad,” Poppy said. “It’s just annoying. And if people overhear, it might give them the wrong idea.”
“I get it,” Penny said. “I’ll stop. Hey, how about I buy you a drink to make up for it?”
“I’m really tired—”
“We’re all really tired.” Penny cut her off. “Come on, you can’t spend your whole life just working and sitting at home. Have some fun! You only have a few more days before your man’s back.”
“Seriously Penny, I just wanna go home and—”
“I’m not taking no for an answer,” Penny said. “Just one drink. C’mon, it’ll be like going to the bar in Grey’s Anatomy. You can be Meredith.”
“Meredith? Seriously? You do know how that storyline ends, right?”
“Fine, do you want to be Christina?”
Poppy sighed. “Alright. I’ll be Christina.”
“Well, then come on, Doctor Chang,” Penny said, and looped her elbow through hers.
“Hey! At least let me put a shirt on,” Poppy said.
“Picky, picky. Now we won’t get any free drinks.” Penny poked at Poppy’s breasts spilling out of her satin bra.
They headed across town separately, toward one of the few restaurant pubs that could draw a crowd on a Wednesday night. It was usually a date night spot, but happy hour ran late and they were both on intern salaries.
“There’s a spot at the bar,” Penny said, and pointed to two stools flanked by what seemed to be college boys on either side.
“You wanna share an appetizer?” Poppy asked her. “Flatbread?”
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Penny replied as she surveyed the room. “This place is dead.”
As they sipped on watered-down cocktails and waited for their food, Poppy looked around the bar. It was mostly couples, and the occasional huddle of work crowds. Suddenly, she spotted a familiar pairing across the bar nestled in a booth. Ryan and Sarah were there. Their backs were to her, and Ryan played with Sarah’s hair.
Poppy instinctively ducked down a little. As she sized Penny up, she couldn’t tell if she’d seen them or not. “What are you doing?” Penny asked.
“Nothing,” she said. She forced herself to sit up straight. “Sorry.”
Penny gossiped about people at work and complained about thei
r attending physicians. “I mean, she doesn’t even try to…”
Poppy completely tuned out and watched Ryan and Sarah from across the bar. Sarah nuzzled his neck and he bit her ear. Surges of jealousy flooded her system. “There’s a four-top over there if you want it,” the bartender said as he cut into her thoughts. “I can move your tab over there.”
“Let’s go,” Penny said. “These kids are annoying.”
“Okay, grandma,” one of the boys said to her.
From the table, she had a much better view of the couple. Poppy watched them in profile. They were right in her line of vision as she watched Penny’s mouth flap open and shut.
Sarah threw her head back and laughed, which made Poppy cringe. “Are you even listening to me? What are you—”
Penny moved to turn around, and Poppy gripped her thigh. “Don’t—”
“Oh. My. God,” Penny said, and whipped back to face Poppy with a maniacal grin. “It’s them!”
She wasn’t certain, but Penny seemed off. Phony. Was this a big performance she’d orchestrated?
“They seem to be getting along really well. Like, really well,” Penny said. “What are they doing now? I can’t see.”
“Nothing,” Poppy said. “Talking, laughing.” Why are you reporting to Penny?
She watched them kiss and saw a flicker of pink between their mouths. They made out in the middle of the restaurant. Ryan’s hand moved to Sarah’s breast, and she didn’t even act surprised. Were they sleeping together? Don’t be stupid, of course they are—they’ve been seeing each other awhile now.
“What about now?” Penny probed.
“Shh.”
“Tell me! I mean, my God, Sarah is super hot for him. Right?”
“Penny, please.”
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from them in the booth. And was Sarah… Poppy couldn’t believe it. Sarah’s hand moved from Ryan’s chest, down his stomach and to the bulge of his jeans. It was difficult to see in the darkness below the table, but it looked like Sarah was starting to unzip him. She’s going to give him a handjob right here. Right now. I’m going to watch him get off in Sarah’s hand.