Page 77 of Red Flag
“No!” I cried and pushed him off.
He frowned in confusion.
“You should have ignored that tweet! Oh my god, Nix, you made it so much worse. I had a newspaper contact me about it!That’s different to a few tweets. They wouldn’t even consider writing about it if you hadn’t got involved.”
He leaned against the desk. “I don’t get it. I was defending you.”
“Yeah, and making yourself look like a fool! Making yourself sound demanding and like a shit boss!”
His frown grew further. “What the fuck? So I can’t even defend you in public? That’s ridiculous.”
“I have told you so many times, NixonArmas, you only interact with positive comments from the public. Only them.”
He stood, shook his head, and muttered, “I will not let my actions hurt you. I will defend you if I want to.”
“Your reputation is more important than mine.”
“But you actually care for yours.”
We were glaring at each other and I really wanted to throw myself at him. When he looked down at my mouth, I was so close to making our quick breaths harsher by climbing him.
Instead, I said, “Are you getting attached,Armas? Because this is just fucking, I’ll remind you.”
Words failed him and seeing him flustered, the pinch between his eyebrows, the tip of his front teeth as his mouth opened, trying to speak… it all made me feel so small.
So I stood tall.
He shook his head, sighed and slammed the door behind him.
He wouldn’t ever listen.
He just wasn’t capable.
Yes, what he had said was sweet. Yes, it had made my chest warm at the compliment. Yes, I had a screenshot of the tweet to remember forever.
But that wasn’t the point.
If being close to me meant he reacted like that, well, maybe being close to me wasn’t a good idea at all.
Which made me want to sob. I was a hormonal wreck today.
If anyone was getting attached, it wasme. The other night, he’d held me down to smell his garlic breath and I squealed until he kissed my nose, neck, all the way down to my bra.
He’d booked anAirBnBwith a cinema room and a tennis court specifically so we could watch Wimbledon together and then I could teach him how to play.
Then there was when he tried to buy me amotorsportjacket, making me try on his before fucking me in his number.
And inviting me to stay at his in the upcoming break, telling me aboutZigand how he’d introduce me to her ‘slowly’ so I didn’t get scared.
Like a fuckingrelationship.
And that scared me more than anything.
I was still in my thoughts as I was getting a bottle of water from the VIP lounge when Abbe sat at the bar where I stood. “Sunshine,” he greeted, swilling his gin. “Go and ask him.”
“Eh?” I asked and thanked the barman for the bottle he passed me.
“AskCrisoutright for the permanent contract,” he said. “Lucatold me. Got angry for you. There’s no way he’ll turn you down.”
