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."

Unsurprisingly, those words did not bring me peace. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing so that I would not have a panic attack underneath him.

Keep him happy, I told myself. You don't want to lose him.

Wilder trailed his lips from my neck down to my chest. The sundress was low cut, so he had easy access to my breasts. He let go of my one wrist to pull the dress and bra down before taking my nipple in his mouth. I gasped as my core ached. My hand did not push him away; instead, my fingers weaved into his hair.

The worries about red flag seventeen almost disappeared once Wilder removed most of his weight from my body. Maybe he would not coerce me into doing anything.

He pulled up the hem of my dress. I made sure to put on a thong and a matching bra this time. Suddenly aware of the wetness soaking through my underwear, I moved to close my legs. Wilder put his knee between my thighs, forcing them open. He stared down at my core. Could he see my juices soaking through the thin material?

"You're so sexy," he said.

I chewed on my bottom lip. My thighs moved to clench together but instead squeezed Wilder's knee. He grabbed the back of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. My mouth nearly watered at the sight of his muscles and tattoos. I could stare at him for hours. He smiled as he watched me admire his physique. Grabbing my hand, he ran my palm along his abs. He smirked as he dragged my hand down to the bulge in my jeans.

"I can't wait to fuck you," he said.

I licked my lips as my eyes stayed on the ink on his chest. My primal instinct was to climb on top of him and rip off his clothes. He rubbed my palm up and down his crotch. Rolling his head back, he closed his eyes and moaned. I smiled. It felt powerful to have this kind of effect on a man, especially a man like Wilder.

He reached for his belt and unbuckled it. Unzipping his pants, he pulled my hand forward so that it was against his hard cock. I rubbed him and listened to him groan.

"You're perfect," Wilder moaned.

Perfect?

No man, including my previous boyfriends, had called me that. No one has ever given me such a compliment. He barely knew me, but he had these strong feelings? He must actually like me.

Wilder grabbed my dress and pulled it over my head. He was rough as he ripped off my underwear and tossed it to the floor. I moved to cover myself with my hands, which was when red flag number seventeen happened again.

He grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head. Being so exposed made me uneasy. I tried closing my thighs, but Wilder's knee stopped me. His grip was crushing my wrists and preventing me from covering my body. Goosebumps broke out across my skin as my heart pounded. How easily he overpowered me caused fear to run through my veins. If he forced me to do something again, there would be no way to stop him.

"Wilder," I said. "Let go of me."

How could his words make me feel so special one moment, and his actions terrify me the next? This man was the definition of a mind-fuck.

Wilder held onto my wrists with one hand. He reached between my legs and dragged one finger up my core. A low throaty chuckle came from Wilder as my wetness coated his fingers.

Why was my body betraying me like this?

My mind was not in a place where I could let this happen. He was overpowering me and was about to force himself on me. Red flag number seventeen was going to become a serious issue.

I pulled against his grip, but it was useless. Using my head, I knew I would have to outsmart my way out of this situation.

Think, Harley, I told myself. You need to think.

Wilder shifted his weight on top of me, and I saw my chance. I brought my knee up as hard as I could and hit in the crotch. Wilder cried out. Holding his cock with his hands, he rolled to the other side of the couch. I scrambled to get out from underneath him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Wilder asked.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I snapped.

He furrowed his brows as he stared at me. My hands shook as I was flustered, grabbing my underwear and clothes.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"I told you to get off me," I said.

"Why are you being so stuck up?" he asked. "We've had sex before. I thought you were cooler than this."

For some reason, those words were like a stab to the heart. I had just ruined my chances of having a relationship with this man. He may be a walking red flag, but I was outrageously attracted to him. Despite his toxicity, Wilder was someone that I would love to have as mine.

I pulled my dress over my head and fumbled with the zipper. His jaw was hard as he narrowed his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm leaving," I said.

Wilder let out a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He broke eye contact as he chewed on his lip. Did he feel any kind of regret?

"Harley," he said. "I promise I'll behave."

"I have to go," I said.

I grabbed my purse and rushed to the door. Slipping on my sandals, I left and slammed the door behind me. I rushed out of the apartment building as fast as I could.