Page 40 of Red Flags Only

I have a feelingsomeonetried to blow it all on stickers.

“I’ve already gotten more than my fair share of spoiling from you with my bike and my greenhouse.” I pause. “And my incoming new bedframe and dining table.”

“Considering your ‘fair share’ of me spoiling you is actually me giving you everything I own and more, I have to disagree.”

“What if instead of me, you give half your assets to the truly needy: men who think theymighthave the flu. You could raise some real awareness.”

He hums, head tilting back in thought. “I could start a non-profit.”

Yes, please focus on fictionally helping over-privileged men get more privilege and less onLyra Eranthe Rogue.

“You could fund an entire facility. Like a hospital but it’s just full of couches for them to lay on while they moan. You could staff it with legitimately sick women so that the men don’t miss out on the full experience.”

“Definitely,” his head drops, eyes meeting mine. “I’ll pay them minimum wage, too, to really immerse them.”

Dark green irises sparkle at me, and the hint of a smile teases his lips.

An answering smile teases mine.

“Do you guys want anything else?” Vivi asks, popping into existence beside our table.

I start, my mouth abandoning its budding smile to form an o.

“Where did you come from?” Jove’s voice echoes my surprise, adding a displeasured edge.

“Um. Over there?” Vivi asks, pointing toward the counter.

Jove scowls at her, vengeful schemes in his eyes.

“Hasn’t done anything to Mars,” I remind him.

His scowl transfers to me, turning into a pout. “Fine,” he mutters. “But I’m not happy.”

Oh boy. “Have you triednotbeing not happy?” I ask.

His pout twitches. “No.”

“Consider it,” I suggest.

His mouth opens, but Vivi speaks, drawing our attention back to her. “So, um,” she hesitates. “Anything else?”

“No,” Jove grits. “We do not want anything from you.”

“Okay!” she squeaks. “Then, um. I’m so sorry, but we’re closing? If that’s okay?”

I think Jove’s eye twitches. I can’t be sure, though, because my eyes are locked on Vivi, who once did beautypageants as a kid, put herself in every talent show the town has ever hosted, and insists on leading the summer parade every year. She has confidence in spades.

And she’s askingJoveif she can close down the café at the appointed closing time.

I know people are wary of him, but this is just silly.

“Of course you can close up,” I tell her, scooting my chair out so that I can stand. “Sorry, Vivi. We didn’t mean to keep you. Right, Jove?”

He doesn’t answer, but does rise pretty immediate-like, which I take to be an affirmation.

“That’s okay!” Vivi exclaims, stumbling back as Jove stands. “It’s really no problem at all!”

“Problem or not, we’re going now,” Jove tells her, opening his wallet to throwanothertip onto the table.

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