That was the very first part of her he’d ever kissed. She’d never realized it was so sensitive, not until Turner Maddox discovered it. He gave her hips a push, which was the permission she needed to climb the stairs. Shrugging out of his jacket, Poppy felt him catch its weight before she started to ascend. He was still there watching when she got to the first landing. Poppy blew him a kiss and he winked in return before she rounded the banister to go up the next flight. Every once in a while she peeked down and found him still standing there, looking up the narrow center void that existed between the flights of stairs.
They were in his building. The safest place they could possibly be. But he wasn’t going to leave that spot until he knew she was at least on her floor. Poppy didn’t want to tear herself away from the stairwell, but she had no choice. If she didn’t go to her apartment, neither of them would get any sleep.
They weren’t together, but they weren’t nothing, and that was something.
FIFTEEN
The next day, Poppy awoke glowing. Her whole body shimmered and shook with the happiness that zipped through her. She felt lighter. Actually lighter. It probably didn’t make much sense, but she didn’t care.
The bathroom was in a semi-state of something and there were different tools lying around. In addition to the tile he’d started to put on the bathroom floor, new paint and tiles were piled up in the living room. The place was coming together. Leaving would be sad, she was starting to love the building. But, like she’d said the previous night, if the choice was between being there and single or moving out and having Turner, there was no contest. She still wasn’t convinced about his opposition and decided to bring it up again during lunch.
Despite falling asleep fast the previous night, Poppy still slept in. Patching things up with Turner seemed to spur her body into catching up on all the sleep it had lost. Other than eating into her time with Turner, she didn’t mind getting some extra shut eye.
There was still no way for her to wash in the bathroom, not properly, so she snuck out to the gym to ensure being fresh for him. It just wouldn’t be right not to shower before getting close to the guy she wanted to press herself against twenty-four seven.
After dropping her things in her apartment and checking her makeup, Poppy ran down the stairs. Yeah, she’d thought she was past the days of running down the stairs on Christmas morning, but that’s what it felt like on the descent to Turner’s apartment.
Shaking her hair down her back, she raised her fist to knock, proud and eager to see him again. That was maybe why when the door opened and a woman with dirty-blonde hair answered, Poppy couldn’t remember how to talk.
There was something already in the stranger’s demeanor that betrayed the needle on the scale of her mood was swinging towards pissed off.
“What?” the woman asked. “What do you want?”
“I…” Poppy didn’t switch to confrontation mode quickly. Given what she’d been through in recent months she probably should, but it just didn’t click into gear fast. “I was—”
“What were you?” The pinch of the blonde’s judgmental eyes only tightened as she looked her up and down. “Oh, I get it, you wanna be a ride-on-renter.”
“I… what?”
“A renter-roller… occupied-occupier,” the woman sneered. “Always the same in rent week. We don’t work like that around here.”
“I… what?” Poppy could fast feel herself spiraling. “I came to see Turner.”
“I bet you did,” the woman said, bending her elbow to bring the door closer to herself.
“Is he… here?”
Still unimpressed, the woman ran her tongue across her upper lip. “Yes.”
“Can I—”
“He’s asleep with the baby,” the woman said.
“Daddy!” someone from inside the apartment called out. A small someone.
The woman backed into the apartment and threw the door toward its frame. It didn’t catch, so swung open an inch. Poppy couldn’t see anything inside, though she did hear movement.
“Play with that,” the woman said, her voice softer, much gentler.
“I want to play with Daddy,” the little girl said.
“Daddy’s busy, honey.”
Daddy? Sliding a hand onto her forehead, she backed away a step. Poppy had asked Turner if he was married, not if he had kids. And who was the blonde woman? His ex? He’d talked about Chantal… was that who she was? He’d never said when…