Your Bed or Mine?. Joss Wood

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      Poppy smiled. ‘We knew that already.’

      ‘Thanks for the warning,’ Tori grumbled.

      ‘You wouldn’t have listened to it,’ Poppy replied.

      Tori waved her hand in the air. ‘It doesn’t matter—all men suck.’

      Poppy put the kettle on the gas and shook her head. ‘When are you going to start making better choices when it comes to men, Tori?’

      ‘I have no idea,’ Tori replied honestly.

      Poppy shoved a tea bag into her mug and poured water on top. She prodded the bag with her finger and Tori winced, resisting the urge to hand her a spoon. Poppy lifted her amazing eyes and Tori saw that they were filled with worry…again. ‘Something has got to change, Tori.’

      ‘I know. I’m sorry.’ Tori pushed her cup away. ‘I should’ve listened to you…’

      ‘Will you listen to me now?’ Poppy leaned against the counter and sipped her tea while she waited for her response.

      ‘Maybe.’ She wished she could say yes but she didn’t want to promise Poppy anything she couldn’t deliver. She took her promises seriously.

      ‘Take some time before you hurtle into the next crazy relationship. Stop confusing sex with love…Have sex if you have to but stop looking for love and investing in the man too soon. And you have to start choosing men who aren’t complete idiots, Toz. You can’t shake the asshat tree and expect a good man to fall out.’

      Did she do that? Did she fall too hard and too fast, getting all her hopes up on something she deep down knew wouldn’t last? Did she deliberately choose men who she knew were going to disappoint her? Hurt her? Was she a self-fulfilling prophecy?

      Tori dredged up a smile. ‘I hereby hand over my right to pick my own boyfriend because I obviously don’t know what I am doing.’

      ‘I’d do a happy dance if I actually believed that,’ Poppy retorted. ‘I just wish your heart would learn that it doesn’t have to get involved in every situation. Its job is to pump blood, that’s it.’

      Tori, thinking that they’d spent far too much time talking about her obviously ridiculous love life, nodded at Poppy’s white coat. ‘Are you working today?’

      Poppy grimaced. ‘Yeah, sorry. How was your night in the boxroom?’

      Interesting. Tori wrinkled her nose. ‘Horrible. I want my room back!’

      ‘I know and I’m sorry. But hang in there—Lara and Alex have been talking about taking a holiday soon, they want some sun…and some alone time, I suspect. When they go you can temporarily move back into your, their, room. And Isaac is away, by the way.’

      Yeah, well, she’d found that out the hard way! Tori heard the twitch in Poppy’s voice and her antennae picked up. She might be the one who was always in a crisis of one sort or the other and she did have a…ahem, colourful romantic history but she was emotionally intuitive and had always wondered why Poppy was so anti-relationships. They could talk about everything and did, except Poppy’s personal life, which was a no-go, never-discuss area. Poppy, fun and self-effacing, was so universally adored that it was sometimes hard to remember that she hadn’t ever—that Tori could remember—brought a man home…

      But whenever Isaac’s name was mentioned, whenever Isaac was around, Poppy vibrated with an energy that was weird and, if she wasn’t mistaken, sexual. Isaac pushed Poppy’s buttons and Tori was just glad that someone did.

      ‘Oh, and Isaac offered his room for the month to Matt Cross, an old friend of his.’ Poppy glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve got to go; introduce yourself to Matt when you see him.’

      She had. Matt had seen all of her.

      Poppy banged her cup into the sink, whirled around and cupped Tori’s face in her cool hands. ‘I love you and I’m glad you’re home. And you deserve to be in the boxroom for making me worry about you.’

      ‘I think the punishment is a bit too harsh for the crime,’ Tori grumbled as Poppy grabbed her bag and flew out of the kitchen. ‘Love you!’

      ‘Isn’t it a bit early in our relationship to start throwing the L-word around?’

      Tori whirled around to see Matt standing in the doorway, dressed in an old pair of jeans and a button-down black shirt, the cuffs rolled back from his wrists, his mobile in his hand. His damp hair was pushed off his face but he hadn’t shaved, black stubble shadowing his jaw. He was magnificent naked and, in the weak early winter light pouring in from the kitchen windows, almost as sexy dressed.

      Tori swallowed down a snarky retort and ignored his amused smirk. Resisting the urge to throw something at him, she pulled out a wide, fake smile and gestured towards the kettle. ‘Morning. Would you like some coffee?’

      A quick frown pulled his brows together. ‘Sure.’

      ‘Milk, sugar?’

      ‘Black. Why are you being charming? Are you planning to throw something into it while I’m not looking?’ Matt sat down in the chair she’d vacated and stretched out his long, long legs.

      Don’t tempt me, buster. But losing my temper again will only show you what a shrew I can be and you will never make another move on me if I act like a Macbeth witch. And I need you to invite me back into your bed so that I can shove the offer so far down your throat that your toes will bulge.

      Tori smiled. ‘I had a rough day yesterday and wasn’t at my best.’ That was an understatement. ‘I misjudged the situation this morning so no harm, no foul.’ Tori glossed over her epic temper tantrum and ignored his raised eyebrow. ‘You are…obviously…unaccustomed to strange women rocking up in your bed and reacted badly.’

      Matt’s mouth quirked up. ‘Not so unaccustomed,’ he said under his breath. His mobile rang and he glanced down at it, twisting his lips. ‘Excuse me while I take this.’

      Tori listened with half an ear to his brief conversation, before turning away. Oh, taking him down was going to be such fun. She dumped coffee granules into his mug and threw some water into the cup. She placed the coffee mug on the table, deliberately leaning over his shoulder and allowing her arm to brush his. His body tightened in reaction and Tori saw—sensed—the shiver of attraction that ran through him. Not trusting her instincts, she walked to the chair opposite him, sat down and watched as his eyes, jade green this morning, drifted down her throat and flicked over her breasts as he wound up his call. She leaned back in her chair, draping an arm over the back, and knew that the action lifted her breasts against her tight purple long-sleeved T-shirt.

      Yeah, take a good look at what you can’t touch, dude.

      Tori’s mobile chirping from the table broke their eye contact and she picked it up and glanced at the text message. She frowned when she saw her mum’s name on the display. Her mum never sent text messages and called even less frequently. Acknowledging that she had a daughter who was twenty-five-plus would mean admitting that she wasn’t actually thirty-five herself, something Kay wasn’t prepared to do.

      Planning to meet up with your father at the end of the month in London. I suppose we should have lunch with you.

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