I exhale, a goofy smile popping out that I can’t seem to stop.
Rhodes eyes me, a slow smirk forming. “Mark my words. You’ll be married within six months, maybe even sooner.”
My head snaps up, color creeping up my neck. “What? No. I mean, I—what?” I run my hand through my hair, sputtering at the sudden turn in conversation.
Rhodes crosses his arms. “I’m serious. If you aren’t married within six months, I will cut this hair off,” he says, tugging on his curls. “If you are, you have to cut your hair off.”
I imagine Poppy pulling my hair when my head is between her legs and shift uncomfortably, turning so they don’t notice. Poppy would be so pissed if I buzzed my hair.
“This just got interesting,” Henley says, hardy-har-haring in the corner.
I glare at all of them.
Penn surveys my hair and then Rhodes’. “Your hair is your signature, both of you. You sure about this?”
Rhodes tilts his head and nods confidently. “Dead sure. That’s how confident I am. Look at him.” He waves his hand at me and I grumble when he says, “Dude’s practically floating.”
“I’m not marrying anyone in six months. That’s insane,” I pause, my cheeks still hot when I think of Poppy’s laughter, the sounds she makes when she comes, the way her eyes light up every time she sees me and Becca, how she says my name… “Fuck,” I whisper. “I mean, we just…we’re happy, but that’s?—”
“Uh-huh,” Weston says, patting my back. “Sure, buddy. Whatever you say.”
Henley’s still laughing. “You better brace yourself, Bowie. I say you cave sooner than later so your hair has time to grow out by the wedding.”
“Do we need to get a contract? I can get a lawyer to draft something up,” Penn, the shit-stirrer says.
I let out an aggrieved sigh, which only makes them laugh more. But deep down, I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. Part of me likes that they’re razzing me, that they see what’s happening between me and Poppy.
“We’ll see who ends up bald,” I say, tipping my chin at Rhodes.
“Harsh!” Penn cries.
“Hey, I didn’t say bald,” Rhodes holds up his hands. “I mean, you can if you want to, but I ain’t doin’ bald.”
“I wouldn’t complain if she moved in, but marriage?” I say with more bluster than I’m feeling. “Nah.”
Can I see myself marrying Poppy? The idea of waking up to her every morning, of trusting that she’s here for keeps…I never thought I’d even consider any of this.
There’s a brief silence where they all exchange glances, each of them smirking like they know something I don’t. Smug bastards.
Rhodes clasps my hand with a grin so self-assured it’s infuriating. “We’ll see, Fox. We’ll see.”
When I step through the door after hanging out with Poppy for a few hours, my house feels oddly quiet. Usually my mom and Mrs. McGregor create a constant low buzz of activity. They’re getting along better, but I think they thrive on arguing. My mom has still made no move to find another place. I think it’s going to take a major push for her to consider moving.
I drop my keys on the console and peek around the corner into the kitchen. My mom is perched on the barstool with a notebook in hand, and Mrs. McGregor is standing by the stovetop stirring her legendary plum jelly. The two of them stop talking the instant they see me, as if caught plotting. I would not put it past them for even a heartbeat.
“Good evening,” my mom says, too chipper.
“You’re home earlier than expected,” Mrs. McGregor says, setting the spoon down. “Everything all right?”
My nerves suddenly make an appearance, pulling tight in my gut. I’ve faced down massive players and harsh coaches, walked into post-game press conferences with blood still trickling down my body. But somehow, telling these two women my latest plan has me on edge more than that. Not because of their reaction, but because I really want this.
“Everything’s fine. Actually, I wanted to talk to you both about something.”
Mom’s notebook snaps shut and Mrs. McGregor folds her arms, as they give me their undivided attention.
I lean against the counter, trying to appear casual. “I’m hoping to convince Poppy to move in with me…with us.”
Mom’s eyes light up and Mrs. McGregor beams.