Red Roses & Red Flags [ONC 2023]

Chapter 9

I never seemed to learn my lesson. Unfortunately, red flag number seventeen appeared again. I should have said something when it happened, but I was too worried to upset him. I let myself be used so that I would not be an inconvenience.

On the trip to Wilder's place, my mind was racing with so many thoughts. Was he really that toxic? Was I overreacting? Would he apologize to me, or were those roses his apology? Would it happen again?

Wilder had cleaned his apartment a little this time. No dirty dishes were in the sink or empty beer cans on the counter. The smell of cigarettes and weed did still linger in the air, but he had a candle on the coffee table to try and combat the smell. The effort he was putting in made me smile.

"You look beautiful," Wilder said as I stepped around the couch.

No longer being in the Eevee costume had given me some confidence. I wore a floral sundress that fit me in a way that did not cling to the fat on my stomach I was self-conscious about. There had been an attempt to put curls in my hair, but the humidity made that a challenge.

"Thank you," I said, sitting on the couch.

Wilder sat next to me. He was close, and his knee was grazing against mine. Putting his arm on the back of the couch, he leaned in, and I caught a whiff of his delicious cologne. I bit down on my lip and curled my fingers into my chest to stop myself from jumping on him.

"What did you want to do tonight?" I asked.

My thighs clenched at the memory of last night. It was great before red flag number seventeen, and after was not too bad either. Was it worth putting myself through that just for the pleasure before and after?

"Use your imagination, Harley," Wilder said.

He raised his hand to wrap his fingers around one of the few curls in my hair. His smirk should have turned me off, but I was so entranced by his crystal blue eyes. Why could he not have some mundane eyes that were brown and looked like mud? If he did, I might not have been so attracted to his red flags, excluding red flag number seventeen.

I did not find him blurring the lines of consent attractive, but I did make excuses for him. He was the type of walking red flag I was stupidly finding sexy. The thought that he was out of my league consumed me, and I needed to keep him around. The potential rejection of losing him had already hurt. There had been so many men that I was not good enough to please.

The heat had rushed to my cheeks, and I leaned in closer so he could not see me blush. He grabbed the back of my head. Closing the distance between our lips, his lips were soft against mine. I parted my lips, and the taste of cigarettes filled my mouth. Cammie always described these kinds of kisses as kissing an ashtray, but I found it incredibly hot. Was he killing himself with cigarettes? It just added to his bad-boy aesthetic.

Wilder pushed me back so that I was lying on the couch. His weight was pinning me down onto the cushions. My hands instinctively went to his chest to push him away. He snatched my wrists and kissed me more forcefully. My teeth ached from how hard he pressed his lips against mine. I rolled my head to get his lips off mine. He trailed kisses down my neck, licking his tongue and nibbling at my skin.

Having him pin me against the couch was only a reminder of how he could easily overpower me. Red flag number seventeen could easily happen again, and I would have no control over stopping it.

"Wilder," I said. I tried to yank my wrists from his grasp, but he tightened it to a crushing hold. "Wilder, wait a minute."

"Don't be stuck up," he said.

Red flag number eight was making an appearance. Once again, he was forcing me to be physical.

"Calm down," he said. "Just relax."