Page 43 of Red Flags Only

I hope so much. Too much, maybe. Too much for 2:00 AM, definitely.

Until Friday,

Lyra ♥

Lyra will be so happy to hear that I am, in fact, writingfive hundred million words. Basically. If six thousand a day since our date equals five hundred million. I was never very good at math.

Speaking of math…

“Babe!” I holler from my desk. “Meeting in five!”

He yells back an affirmative, and I spend my five minutes selecting stickers and paper scraps I want to include in my reply to Lyra. I find a roll of washi tape with squishy little cat faces on it and immediately decide to theme the letter around it. Squishy cutie kitty cats. She’ll love it.

Before I can get too lost in my supply drawer, Mars appears at my door. “Meeting time, Jovey. The carrot cake’s ready.”

I nod, tell my ephemera I’ll be back for it, and head for the kitchen table, where my darling brother has laid out two glasses of milk – one crisp white and one creamy brown – next to matching plates of perfect carrot cake triangles topped with frosting carrots. A meeting well prepped.

“All right, all right,” Mars starts, sliding into his chair. He lifts a pale blue notebook, the silver moon on its cover reflecting the overhead light. “Let’s see what’s on the menu today…” He flips to a page somewhere in the middle of the notebook, marked by a star-shaped paperclip.

I lean forward, reading upside down. Number one says ‘book progress update’.

“First up, your date!” Mars declares, snapping the book shut.

I sit back, snorting. “That was number four on that list,” I inform him, head shaking as I tsk. “You’re supposed to be the numbers guy.”

“I am known for being unpredictable,” he tells me. “Now, tell meeverything.”

I laugh, then do as he asks. Who am I to deny him ofanything he might want?

“Did you know that mini-golf doesn’thaveflags?” I ask. “I had to special order some and… donate them. After the fact.” Donate. Break in and leave them with a mildly threatening note should they remove them. Same thing. “We showed up and there were just… holes? Everywhere. Who cares about stupid holes? I’m there for the flags, and they present me with that nonsense. It was ridiculous.” I stab at my cake, bringing a bite to my mouth with perhaps more force than the fluffy confection requires. “That little twerp was there. The one who messed up your bike?” I speak around the cake in my mouth, then swallow. “Lyra told me I couldn’t yell at him. Then, once I explained why actually I could yell at him, she suggested we key his car.” I sigh, eyes wrinkling. “You should’ve seen her, Mars. Sticking up for you. It was glorious.”

Mars’ cheeks lift as he shifts in his seat, and I nod.

“I know. She’s incredible. Then we went to Sweet & Salty to go over the contract. Clearly she recognizes your genius, because she didn’t ask to change anything or take anything out. My Lyra, so smart.”

“Naturally. I’d expect nothing less from my bike buddy,” he agrees, taking a sip of his chocolate milk. “Has she broken rule one yet?”

“No, but I told her she could if she wants to. I’m a catch.”

His head bobs. “Absolutely true. How about you?”

“How about me what?”

“Have you broken rule one yet?”

Uh. “Have I what now?”

Mars sighs, setting his cup down and licking chocolate milk off his lip. “Jovey, Jovey, Jovey,” he says, snatching up his fork to point at me. “Rule one is there to be broken. That’s a staple of the trope,” he educates. “Ideally, youbreak it first, since he falls first gets better traffic than she falls first, but he falls harder.” He leans back in his seat and stuffs a bite of carrot cake in his mouth. The hints of humor in his green eyes strike me as…unsettling? Yes. Unsettling. “Please keep search frequency in mind while you’re studying. It makes no sense to practice stuff I can’t market. I might be a miracle worker, but I’m still only human.”

“I don’t know that-”

His brow arches as he takes another bite of cake. “You don’t know that I’m only human? I’m flattered, but it’s true. Now, let me cook a moment…”

I silence. He can cook all he wants. I have no intention of falling in love with Lyra.

Should she fall in love with me, I will gladly take her for my wife, the better to spoil her for the rest of our lives. Should she not, I’ll continue to spoil her as my friend. Neither of those scenarios require me to get anywhere nearin lovewith her. I wouldn’t even know how to.

I can’t write the romance portion of romance books, and my silly little brother thinks I can do one in real life? I went thefakedating route for a reason.

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