“This place is insane,” she told Sarah. They both shifted in the uncomfortable wooden seats, arranged in a semicircle around the dance floor that had been turned into a game show stage for the night.

“I know, right? And on a Thursday.” Sarah took small sips from her beer.

“There’s Ryan!” Poppy said. She lifted an arm to wave him over. The surprised look on his face told her he hadn't known she was coming. “Didn’t you tell him I was coming?” she asked Sarah as Ryan weaved his way through the crowd.

“I figured he’d assume,” Sarah said. She picked her bag up from the seat between them for Ryan to sit.

“I’m the peanut butter in a lady sandwich, huh?” Ryan asked as he sat down. Poppy offered up a smile, but it was forced. “Anyone else coming?”

“Nope, it’s a threesome tonight,” Sarah said with a wink. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I always do,” Ryan said. He grabbed a handful of Poppy’s popcorn without asking, and she automatically angled the paper bag in his direction.

“Alright folks, it’s time to get started!” The emcee was a balding man with a paunch. “Now, as some of you know, this is a traveling show every Thursday night at various hot spots around town. To keep things interesting, every week it’s a new game, and we try to keep the details on the down low. You know what I’m saying?”

A few drunk people in the audience whooped and hollered.

“That’s right! Tonight’s game is all about how well do you know your partner?”

Poppy felt awkward as blood rushed to her face. Obviously you’re the odd man out. Or woman. Oh well, at least it would be entertaining and she wouldn’t have to worry about getting called up on stage.

Sarah gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know—”

“It’s okay,” Poppy said.

“We probably won’t get picked anyway. But if we do, we’ll all go up. Pinky swear,” she said, and held up a symbolic pinky.

“Do you two want to sit together?” Ryan asked as he munched through more of the popcorn. He didn’t take his eyes off the stage.

“You just be happy sitting bitch,” Sarah told him with a poke to his arm.

“Ouch! Watch those talons,” Ryan said.

The emcee chose some easy prey in the first row—two couples who were clearly in the honeymoon stages of their relationship. The first couple “passed” with flying colors, which moved them to the semifinal rounds. The second couple admitted they were just on their third date. They were clearly nervous, and Poppy thought it was cute. She began to relax into the fun of the evening.

She nursed her cocktail and stole glances at her watch. The whole thing was entertaining enough, but she couldn’t shake the idea she was crashing Ryan and Sarah’s date.

“And, I’m sorry, but with that answer you’re disqualified,” the emcee said. Poppy looked up, and the newish couple stood up to exit. “She answered that her idea of a perfect vacation is somewhere tropical, not a snow-covered mountain lodge.” The couple in the semifinal rounds smiled confidently from their corner.

Is it too early to call it a night? Poppy downed the last of her drink and started to wriggle on her jacket.

“Now, how about… you!” the emcee said.

“Me?” Ryan was caught with a fistful of popcorn halfway to his mouth.

“Yes, the handsome, muscular man in the middle there. Which one of those pretty girls are you here with?”

“Well, both—”

“Both! Lucky dog!”

“No, I mean, uh. She—she’s my date,” Ryan stammered as he put a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

“Well, bring her on down!”

“Poppy! Poppy, come on,” Sarah said. She grabbed Poppy’s arm and dragged her up.

“No! Sarah, you go—”

“Come on! I told you we were doing this all together.”

Afraid to make a scene, Poppy let Sarah herd her to the stage.

“Oh, I see it is a threesome after all! That’s okay, let’s roll with this,” the emcee said. He gestured for an assistant to bring out an extra chair and situated the three of them on stage.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Poppy.”

“And your friend here?”

“Uh, Sarah.”

“Uh Sarah. Got it. Okay, I’m going to ask you some questions about your friend first to get things rolling.”

As he tore through the questions, she got one after the other correct. They were easy, especially since she and Sarah had lived together briefly in college.

“Favorite hangover food? Worst date? Drink of choice?” This is easier than I thought.

“Now, Sarah,” the host said. “I’m going to ask you some questions about Ryan. That is, assuming you know anything about him besides how good he looks in a T-shirt.”

Poppy saw Sarah tense up. Even though the emcee was joking, it was a sore spot for Sarah. She was notorious for ”not being able to keep a man.”

“Okay,” Sarah said, her tone determined.

“What’s his favorite hobby?”

“Eating.” Ryan laughed and nodded.

“Your first kiss?”

Poppy hummed in her head. She didn’t want to hear the answer, but saw Ryan nod again.

“Where was he born?”

“Virginia.”

Ryan shook his head. “Oh, that looks like a no! Ryan?” the emcee asked.

“Oregon. Long story, nobody knows that,” Ryan said apologetically. I knew that, Poppy thought. His mom had been traveling for work during her third trimester and Ryan had arrived early, a surprise preemie.

Poppy began willing Sarah to get the rest of the answers right, and she did pretty well. In all, she answered sixteen of the nineteen questions correctly.

“Now, whether this last question is answered correctly or not doesn’t really matter,” the emcee said. “You’re still doing well enough for the semifinals and the chance to win a gift certificate worth over two hundred dollars to this esteemed pub. But let’s make things interesting—Poppy? I’m directing the last question to you, and it’s about Ryan.”

Poppy sat up straight. “But first, do you know if Ryan went to his prom?”

“Yeah. He did,” she said.

“Great. What was the name of his prom date? His first prom date, if he went to multiple?”

She could feel Sarah’s eyes as they bored into her. “I don’t remember her name,” Poppy finally said. Sarah glowed, happy that Poppy wasn’t so perfect after all. She didn’t know Ryan that much better than Sarah did. Or at least it looked that way.

“Sixteen points!” the emcee said, and an assistant pointed them toward the semifinal table.

“I need to go to the restroom,” Sarah whispered to them both, flushed with excitement.

“I need another drink,” Poppy said, and raced to the bar.

She ordered an ice water, and felt a hand on her arm. “Poppy! What the hell was that?” She turned, and Ryan was right behind her. “How could you? How could you not—”

Poppy looked away, but he wasn’t going to give up. At the end of the long bar, they were in a quiet, dark corner with just a neglected jukebox. “Ryan, come on—”

“No,” he said. In one step he engulfed her personal space. She felt caged.

“Knock it off, this is stupid—”

She tried to move around him, but she was truly cornered. He pressed his body firmly against hers to keep her in place. The full presence of him chilled her to the bone. A hardness pressed into her hip and her eyes went wide. She’d never really been aware of him like this before, and the pressure of his cock against her shocked her to stillness.

Poppy bit her lip and looked down. What would he taste like…

Of course she’d had his lips, and not that long ago. The feel of his tongue working hers was still fresh in her memory. It sprung up at the most inopportune times, like when she was halfway through a shift. Or in the middle of the night when she really needed sleep but couldn’t stop the ache between her legs. But would he taste different? Better, somehow? Down there…

She wanted him so badly it knocked the breath out of her. It’s like there are two of you, Jekyll and Hyde. Which path are you going to take? Come on, come on, come on.

There was still a part of her that was hungry for Will’s path. At least there, she would have certainty. Follow Ryan’s path, and it would be straight down a rabbit hole to a fate unknown. “Ryan—”

“Poppy.” Was it her imagination, or was he pressing himself harder into her? The heat and pressure against her hip bone were too much to take.

“I have a boyfriend,” she said. Poppy shoved Ryan’s chest and forced him to back up. Just like that, the spell was broken.

“I know,” he growled.

“Then act like it.” She pushed past him and bolted out of the door into the cool sweetness of the night air. You’re an idiot for getting so close. Almost kissing him again.

She started walking toward her car, parked blocks away. Her phone buzzed at least a dozen times, but she refused to look. It would just be Ryan, apologizing again, and she didn’t have any room left for him in her head. Instead, she focused on keeping her heels from getting stuck in the sidewalk cracks and politely telling the homeless men huddled in the doorways she didn’t have any cash.

“Liar,” one called after her. Maybe he was right.

What is wrong with me? She couldn’t be having these feelings, these urges—not about her best friend.