Page 42 of Red Flagged
“I’ll be right there,” he said, voice low and edged with warning.
I grabbed the garment bags from him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Merci,” I said before I ducked back into the bedroom, grinning as the door closed.
Ivy muttered, “Jesus. Nowthatwas disgusting.”
I hung the bags up in the closet, then turned and pressed my hand to my chest. “He’s justsucha good boy. So helpful.”
“Do you have him trained or something?” she asked, still staring at the door like he might materialize through it again. “Is there anything you twoaren’tinto? I feel like if I opened that door right now, I’d walk into an altar and a ball gag.”
I threw my head back and laughed, flopping back onto the bed and gripping my bunny like it was a stress ball. This thing had been through hell and back with me for years now, it was basically a pacifier. “The gag’s for me, not him.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re deranged.”
“Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “But at least I’m honest about it. You, on the other hand—” I pointed the bunny at her like a weapon—“get weird every time Marco so much as breathes in your direction. So what’s that about?”
Ivy groaned, collapsing back onto the mattress beside me. “It’s nothing. He’s… Marco. Charming. Annoying. Infuriatingly attractive in that smug-bastard way. And he keeps showing up when I don’t want him to.”
I smiled knowingly. “Mhm. That’s notnothing,Brit. That’schemistry.Dangerous, combustible, PR-nightmare chemistry. There is no ignoring it. One day it’s going to explode and you won’t be able to stop it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know I make fun of your sex life like I’m above it all, but the truth is, Ilikeexperimenting too.” Her voice softened. “It’s just… been a long time since I’ve felt safe enough to.”
I blinked at her, surprise flickering through me like a lightning strike.
“And…” She hesitated, then dragged a hand through her hair and sat up again. “You know how Marco was the one who caught Morel getting handsy with me, right?”
My stomach turned. “Yeah. I heard.”
“I guess I just—” she broke off, staring at the makeup brushes scattered across the duvet, fidgeting with the handles. “I just felt safe with him after that. That’s why I didn’t want him to leave me in the Orion garage. Not because I’m some simpering damsel. Just because it felt like he saw it. Saw me. And he didn’t make it weird or fragile or… anything. He was just there. Steady and protective.”
I reached out and squeezed her wrist.
“But Marco isn’t a long-term commitment kind of guy,” she went on, a little too quickly, licking her lips almost nervously. “And come on, Aurélie. I’m not getting any younger. I’m already two years older than him—almost thirty. I’ve got a biological time clock the size of Big Ben, and PCOS is going to make it a nightmare to have kids as it is. I don’t have time to sit around waiting for him to grow up and decide he wants the white picket fence package.”
My chest ached. “Ivy…”
She let out a bitter laugh. “It’s stupid. We’ve only seen each other a handful of times outside of the paddock. Once during mass in Barcelona—completely by accident. Another time at that media event in Austria. Then again at some charity dinner in Rome a couple weeks ago.” She picked up a contour brush and twisted it between her fingers. “And then… he just started popping upeverywhere.Like I’d blink and there he was. Same flight. Same cafe. Same stupid book in his hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.”
A slow grin split my face in half. “He reads?” I wondered incredulously.
“No. Hepretendsto. His attention span’s a disaster. But he holds the book like it’ll impress me.” Her cheeks flushed faintly. “And God help me, itworks. My girly little brain tells mehe’s hot and reads—mate for life,and my body is on fire for him, but I also know he’s emotionally unavailable, catastrophically flirty, and allergic to commitment. Like… he probably thinks pillow talk is admitting he watched a sad movie once.”
I snorted before devolving into a full fit of giggles, and after a minute, she busted out laughing too. The sound echoed off the walls. She clutched her stomach, and it was a full-blown wholesome girl-talk moment. One I think we’d both been desperately needing for far too long.
“You like him,” I said once we’d both recovered.
“I don’t want to,” she snapped, and then sighed. “I used to be so fun, you know? I used to havea lotof sex. I’m basically a pro in seduction and using my assets to get what I want. And I like it rough. I like being handled. I like being told what to do sometimes. But I want more. I want to explore kink. I want someone tosee meand still touch me like they can’t get enough. And I know I act like none of it phases me, but…”
“But…?” I urged.
Her voice dipped, almost inaudible now. “I just don’t have anyone to talk to about any of this. So this is weird for me. Being this honest.”
I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat, scooted closer, and bumped my shoulder against hers. “Well, now you do. And for the record?” I looked over at her, dead serious. “You can be the most intimidating, unshakable bitch on the grid andstilldeserve softness. Still deserve safety. Still deserve to get your back blown out on a semi-regular basis by someone who knows how.”
She burst out laughing again and smacked me with a pillow.
“I’m serious,” I insisted, grinning. “You deserve everything you’re too afraid to ask for. We both do.”
Ivy’s eyes watered, a rare show of solemn emotion from her. “How did you learn to do that?”
