Page 3 of Claiming Poppy (Claiming 4)

I start the car, intending to leave him eating my fumes, but something makes me hesitate. There’s no coming back from this. This is the end of our relationship, and I’m not going to run away like a whipped puppy. I’m going to face it head-on.

He reaches my door, a pleading look on his face. I lower my window, giving him a look that could freeze water. “How long?”

Jeremy’s cheeks flush guiltily. “About a month.”

“Is it because I wanted us to wait?” I demand, pressing my lips together to hide their tremble.

He frowns, shifting uncomfortably on his bare feet. “Come on, Poppy! There’s only so long a man can go without sex. Maybe if you weren’t so frigid, things would be different,” he says nastily.

My mouth drops open. Frigid? Anger bubbles through my bloodstream and spills into my words. “And maybe if you were more of a man, we wouldn’t be having this conversation! You’re a pathetic little boy with the morals of an alley cat. And that’s being kind to alley cats!”

I go to drive away, but he reaches through the window, grabbing my arm.

“Poppy, I’m sorry. I never meant—"

“You never meant what? For your cock to fall into her vagina?” I yell, pointing back towards his apartment. “You’re not sorry about a damned thing! But I am. I’m sorry I ever thought you were a decent human being. We’re done, Jeremy! I’m not sticking around so you can blame me for your mistakes.”

I hit the gas, and this time I take off with a satisfying squeal of tires, leaving Jeremy standing alone on the sidewalk.

Thoughts crowd my mind as I drive towards home. For months, I’ve been holding onto something that wasn’t real. I should be devastated, but I’m not. Angry? Humiliated? Betrayed? Sure. But the only thing I’m sad about is that I settled for something less than I deserved, for something that wasn’t love.

By the time I park outside my apartment, I’m surprised to find my thoughts no longer caught up on Jeremy. Instead, I’m remembering warm, strong arms and a pair of chocolate-brown eyes.

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