Page 50 of Red Flags Only

An oval coffee table sits in front of the couch holding two remotes and a candle.

Men own candles? All on their own?

“Mars likes fire,” Jove mutters, turning so that I can see the rest of the common area, namely the kitchen, which is better than half the kitchens I’ve seen on TV.

It’s gleaming, modern appliances sparkle so bright it’s no wonder they don’t use the big lights. The reflection would probably blind them with big light power behind it.

In comparison, their worn table looks out of place, surrounded by equally worn seats. A leftover from before they zapped the kitchen into the future, probably.

On a counter running between the kitchen and living room rests a tiny carrot cake, displayed pristinely beneath a glass dome. My mouth waters for the first time in days, the prospect of getting a slice of that cake awakening my stomach more than any soup or cracker has since illness overtook me.

I turn my head slowly, mindful of the toll keeping my eyes open for so long is having on me, but don’t get far. I blink, certain the apparition before me is a trick of my mind. Shocking me, the image does not disappear, not even as I wipe my eyes, convinced it cannot be real.

“Your beverage, dear damsel,” Mars speaks, confirming his actuality. “Chilled to near freezing, as requested.”

I reach out to wrap my hand around the frosty can of Diet Coke he’s offering to me. The minute my fingers are on his, he grins, greeting me with more enthusiasm than I’m able to return.

“Hello, bike buddy.”

I croak what might be a greeting back at him and bringmy soda to my cheek, closing my eyes at the relief it gives.

“Wow,” Mars says. “She really is sick.”

“I told you she was,” Jove replies. “I’ll keep her tucked away safe and sound in my room so you aren’t at risk of catching it.”

I miss Mars’ reply, lost in the glory of sweet, cold beauty on my skin. “This is so nice,” I mutter as I’m lowered onto plush blankets.

Jove’s hands slip out from under me, and I move my can to my other cheek. Goodness,sonice.

“I’ll get you some ice,” he says, smoothing my hair away from my face.

I muster the energy to open my mouth, if not my eyes. “There was carrot cake?” I ask, full of hope.

He chuckles. “There’s always carrot cake. You want some, Lyra-love?”

I nod, rolling the can to my forehead. “More than anything.” Well… “Except a freezer. Does your fancy kitchen have a freezer big enough to drop me in?”

“It does,” he answers. “But I will not be dropping you in it.”

“On account of all the hate you harbor for me in your soul?” I wonder.

“On account of my immense love for you. Cryogenic Lyra would just not be the same.”

Right. I’m so sure.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, then his lips are on my forehead, pushing the can out of the way for his kiss. “Don’t throw any parties while I’m gone.”

Yeah, well. Joke’s on him.

I’m a total party animal.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Not in love, huh?

Jove

I’ve never seen someone look so adorable while sick, and Mars was a seriously adorable little kid. Lyra though? She’s just so…

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