Page 43 of Red Flagged
I tilted my head, caught off guard. “Do what?”
“Ask for what you want. Say what you need. Be seen like that.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek, then let out a breath. “I don’t know. Maybe because Callum didn’t let me run away when I tried. He just… stayed. No matter how messy or moody or manic I got, he stayed. And it made me want to stay too. Everything has just kind of evolved. We’ve let it flow only when we were ready.”
“You’re lucky.”
“I know.” I smiled softly, then after a beat added nonchalantly, “By the way, that pillow was under my ass last night when he fucked me stupid.”
Ivy shrieked and hurled the pillow across the room like it was contaminated. “AURÉLIE.”
“What?” I shrugged. “It’s a very supportive pillow. Has a surprising amount of bounce back.”
“Gross. You’re gross.”
“You’re the one who touched it!”
She flailed her arms like she was trying to shake something off. “Oh my God, I think I got dick aura on me!”
I doubled over laughing. “It’s not contagious—unless you count magical weenie syndrome.”
Ivy lost it. “Weenie?! What are we, twelve?”
“I panicked! What else was I supposed to call it? Haveyouever been spiritually rearranged? That’s a magical weenie moment.”
“Stop saying weenie!”
“Weenie. Weenie. WEE?—”
She tackled me with another pillow to the face, both of us dissolving into full-blown, mascara-smudging cackles.
Ivy straightenedand hauled me upright, inspecting my makeup.
“I really should’ve set your base before I threw a pillow at you. Now I have to fix it.”
I stuck my tongue out. “Do we have to? I don’t know, I almost feel like we should just let them see what Morel did.”
“No. Tilt your chin,” she demanded, back to business, as if our moment had never happened. That was Ivy, and one of the reasons I loved her. We could go from personal to professional in under five seconds. “We want ethereal, not corpse.”
“How flattering,” I deadpanned.
“Shut up and let me fix your face, Frenchie.” She tapped more product along my cheekbones. “It’s giving delicate vengeance.”
“Delicate vengeance?”
“Just trust me.”
I obeyed, my eyes fluttering closed as she worked.
“Okay, lips,” Ivy said, snapping me out of it. “Do you want soft slutty or business slutty?”
I cracked one eye open. “Which one saysI could end you with a glare but would rather make you beg first?”
She blinked. “Dark mauve gloss it is.” She made quick work of it, the final sweep of her wand leaving my lips gleaming and looking kiss-ruined.
I was definitely starting to feel the second Vicodin. My limbs were looser. My brain was syrupy. I let myself sink back against the pillows, eyes drifting closed again. I stretched my arms overhead, fingers tangling together. I arched my back without thinking, letting any remaining tension leak from my body like smoke. My top rode up over my ribs, and I sighed. It was lazy, languid, and bordering on indecent.
“Jesus Christ,” Ivy muttered. “You’re about to makemeask to marry you.”
