Page 27 of Red Flags Only

Wide-eyed, I freeze as his face nears mine.

“Whatever I need, huh?” he asks. “You’re being pretty loose with your promises.”

Ah. Ha. Haha. Am I? “I’dreallylike to help,” I reply. “Because you’re my friend, of course, but also because your books are amazing and magical and the perfect escape and the chance to be even a small part of making that perfect escape come to life is so…wow. You know? My reader heart is soaring. I’m not Lyra, your friend, right now. I am Lyra, your total fangirl, and fangirl Lyra is losing her mind.”

Jove is close enough that his eyes have to flick back and forth to look at mine, determining the veracity of my words.

My hands twist in my lap, and I do my very best to look like the world’s best researcher, willing him not to change his mind about wanting my help.

“Would you like to know what I need?” he murmurs, head tilting.

I nod maybe a touch too vigorously, judging by the light of amusement that sparks in his eyes.

“What I need, sweet Lyra, is a girlfriend,” he says.

“I’ll do i-” Wait. Did he just say… “What?” I wheeze. “What did you say?”

Chapter Sixteen

Girlfriends are fishy.

Jove

“A girlfriend,” I repeat.

Lyra’s mouth opens. Shuts. Opens. Shuts. She looks like a cute little fish.

“So you’ll help?” I ask, reaching up to squish her cheeks. Blub, blub. Fishy, fishy.

She makes a noise somewhat reminiscent of a balloon deflating.

I squish her once more before dropping my hand.

“Not for real, of course,” I say, letting her off the hook, fun as it was to dangle her. “Dating for fake to help me research for my Flag Day book. I’m trying to take on some of the more romantic bits to take pressure off of Mars and to contribute equally for probably the first time ever, but I’m truly abysmal at human relationships. The only decent ones I have are with you and Mars, and he told me in no uncertain terms that he would not be helping me with this. Partially because he doesn’t think I need to pull more weight and partially because fake dating your brother is frowned upon.”

“Frowned upon, huh?” she mutters, still somewhat blubby.

“Mm,” I confirm. “Frowned upon. And so, as you cansee, you’re my only hope.”

Blub, blub. Then, “Could you… hope a little further?”

I frown. “You don’t want to date me?”

“Fake,” she adds weakly. “Fake date you.”

“You don’t want tofakedate me?”

“Is there- Can you- I mean to say… can’t you just watch a couple of romcoms or something? What do you need me for?”

“Ah,” I sigh, plucking her cardboard sleeve of chicken nuggets out of her lap and setting it on the table. My body twists until my back is to the couch and my head is hovering over the space the nuggets previously occupied. No hesitation, I plop my head in her lap. “The thing is,” I start, looking up her nose. “I tried that, and it didn’t work. The only time I’ve had any sort of a decent writing day recently is after the last time we hung out. You’re inspiration, Ly. I’ve never met anyone more romantic than you. It permeates everything around you – your home, your air, your presence. A few hours in your bedroom, surrounded by your world, and I had enough fuel to get me through several thousand words. And we weren’t even trying! Imagine how many words I could get down after adate? I’ll have the book finished in a month.”

Her nose hairs leave my sight somewhere around me calling her an inspiration, replaced by incredulous grass-green eyes, which grow ever wider the longer I speak.

“Date?” she squeaks, blinking rapidly.

My brows furrow. “You’re right. Just one probably isn’t enough for proper research. Multiple would be much better, and probably reduce my estimated timeline byweeks.”

Blub. Blub. Blink.

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