Free Yellow (The Safeword Series, #2) by Ava Claire Page B

then we’d leave the conversation open ended, like some obvious thing on each other’s face that the other person pretended wasn’t there.
    She bit her lip and pulled her shades over her eyes. After she downed her mimosa with the same ferocity that I’d devoured my coffee, she scrubbed her face of the past and flashed me a toothy grin. “Tell me about this lucky lady.”
    I returned the favor, lowering my arms and relaxing. “Her name is Sin.”
    It was a good thing she wasn’t still drinking because she would have spewed mimosa all over the place. “What?!”
    “I met her at Hush,” I elaborated, preparing for the inevitable eye roll.
    “Ugh, I didn’t ask if you got laid , Des!” She pretended she was plugging her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. “I could care less about your sexual exploits. Don’t want to see them, hear about them, just...no. I mean, do you want to hear about my sex life?”
    I took a shuddering bite of my croissant, swallowing before I answered. “Considering I nearly murdered the best boy for looking at your ass, I think you know the answer to that question.” I looked into green eyes that were identical to my own and smiled. No smirk, no half smile, a full on grin. “And not that it’s any of your business, but we haven’t-” I slammed to a stop mid sentence, my smile faltering. The word ‘sex’ suddenly felt vulgar. And more than that, I felt this need to defend Sophia. To defend what we had, which was utterly ridiculous. If I hadn’t been reeling from my attraction to her, I would have had sex with her. Hell, sex was probably exactly what we needed to do so I could get her out of my system before either one of us did something crazy like fall in you-know-what.
    “Her name is Sin. And you met her at a sex club.” Mallory was speaking slowly, like she was waiting for some vital, missing piece of information.
    “Her real name is Sophia.” I scooted the knot of my tie up a few inches. Tightening the lid on my emotions. They would do me no good here. Or anywhere. “And yes, we met at Hush, which is a sex club, but...” I trailed off, not finishing my sentence again. I knew I was blushing before Mallory unhelpfully pointed it out.
    “Oh my gosh! You like her!” Mallory’s high pitched excitement carried, drawing a handful of unamused eyes in our direction.
    I dabbed my mouth with my napkin, aiming at invisible crumbs. Mostly, I was trying to pretend she didn’t catch me redhanded. Or, just red in general if the heat that was invading my face was any indication. I was guilty of doing the very thing I’d turned to the world of kink to avoid.
    “Don’t be juvenile, Mal. I said I met someone, not that we’re dating.”
    “Well, you’re not fucking-”
    “Language!” I admonished her.
    “Oh God, you sound just like-”
    The word 'Mom' died on her tongue and the sparkle faded to sparks of glitter, like some great wind had gusted through and upended everything. Our eyes locked and I knew that whether or not I was ready to discuss that night, ready to face the past, was irrelevant. Caity wasn't the only thing we lost that night. We lost the comfort of denial; the naive belief that it was normal that our mother downed a bottle of sangria with dinner. That she wasn't an alcoholic because those people couldn't function and she was active in church and always smiling, laughing, the life of the party.
    She was still here, a shadow of her former self...but we lost her too.
    Mallory combed her fingers through her live wire strands, tugging the red locks over her shoulder. I think both of us were glad that we could hide behind our shades.
    “So, if she's not one of your, what do you call them?”
    “Submissive,” I answered, trying to not sound annoyed that she was pretending she didn't know that word. Or what I did. She was my assistant, my sister, and to be honest, my best friend. There was nothing secret between us—including her disdain for my choices in the