Page 40 of Red Flagged
“Besides,” I continued casually, shrugging, “this request wasn’t because I’mune princesse de haute couture.” I shot them all a knowing look. “It’s because of these.” I pulled the sleeves of Callum’s lucky hoodie up so they could see the bruising. They didn’t need to know the specifics.
Marco plopped down beside me and lifted my wrist delicately. “Jesus Christ, Dubois,” he murmured. “You look like someone tried to exorcise you.”
I yanked it back. “I’m fine.”
“Fine, mon amie?” Ivy protested, rushing over and grabbing both of my hands to inspect the damage. “What the fuck? They were not this bad yesterday.”
“The second day is sometimes worse,” I bluffed, meeting her green gaze without flinching.
She dropped hers to look at my lap, where my bunny heating pad was. Concern flickered across her face when she lifted her eyes to mine again, silently questioning. I lifted one shoulder, just enough to say,I don’t know.
“You say that, but also,” Kimi stepped around Ivy, squinting down like he was scrutinizing every detail about me, “...is that a handprint on your thigh?”
“Kimi,” I chastised, pulling my hands out of Ivy’s to cover myself more.
“I’m not judging.” He held his palms up. “I’m just saying that Callum might be feral, but the man’s consistent. Possessive as fuck. Makes sense if he wanted to cover Morel’s marks.”
I jumped when Callum’s hands landed on my shoulders from behind the couch.Mon Dieu, I hadn’t even seen him move. “I’m right here, asshole.”
Ivy waved them off like they were vultures. “Enough from all of you. You know nothing.” She pulled me to my feet. “And nobody touch her face. Especially you, Scottie.” She threw Callum a skeptical glance. “She’ll need a full contour to cover that bruise, and we need to make sure it’s barely noticeable unless you’re under direct lighting.”
“Already tried that,” I groaned, annoyed that my three attempts to cover it had been unsuccessful.
Kimi was unzipping the garment bags and pawing through the dresses now, holding each up with all the interest of a man choosing the design for his next helmet. “This one says corporate murder. This one says I own a vineyard and a yacht. This one screams Morticia Addams. I like it.”
I sighed. “God help me.”
I could make fake dramatic complaints all day long, but truthfully? It felt like the first real exhale I’d taken all week.
The longer Icramped without bleeding, the more certain I became that this was just a bad endo flare-up. Not the worst-case scenario that my anxiety had whispered into my ear at 4 a.m. Just pain. My old, familiar enemy. The kind that lingered like an unpaid debt and only let up when it felt like it.
When I took the Vicodin earlier, Callum had practically tucked me into his arms like a glass figurine. But I snuck another not too long ago when I wasn’t quite comfortable enough to sit through a dinner without flinching. And now, the throbbing in my womb had dulled to a manageable thrum. Still present, but not unbearable. I could breathe again.
The lavender bunny heating pad was still curled around my waist, tucked into the waistband of Callum’s hoodie. The air in the bedroom was warm, scented faintly with Ivy’s perfume and something heady that lingered on my skin—him.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Ivy muttered, dragging a blending sponge down my cheekbone, “but you need more blush. You’ve got the painkiller glow. All soft and innocent and dewy.”
I glowered up at her. “Iamsoft and innocent.”
She scowled.
“Okay,” I amended. “Soft and devious.”
“That’s more like it.” She pressed the sponge to my skin again.
My lips curled into a smile I couldn’t contain. “For the record, it’s not from the painkillers.”
“What’s not?—”
“The glow,” I cut her off.
Her mouth snapped shut as she jerked upright and gaped at me. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
I gave her a pointed look. “I mean,sure, the Vicodin took the edge off. But the real reason I look like I’m halfway to sainthood?” I leaned in conspiratorially and dropped my voice a few octaves. “I had sex twenty minutes before you guys got here.”
Ivy froze, then tilted her head slowly. “Wait.Seriously?”
“On the bed you’re sitting on,” I added helpfully.
