Camera Shy: Chapter 22

All my instincts are telling me Mason’s dodgy, lazy behavior is going to cost us the Legacy Resorts contract. I’m not sure why he’s so distracted. It’s a simple request. I need the numbers so I can get to work. We’re pitching in less than two months, and this is the most significant contract we’ve ever chased. So, after weeks of no reports, I take matters into my own hands.

After hours of scouring our common LinkedIn connections, I determine that Hunter Mahan is the marketing director at Legacy Resorts. Due to our numerous contacts in common, I’m able to snag his email address.

Misogynist or not, surely, he’s capable of responding to an email.

From: Avery Scott, Arrow Consulting

To: Hunter Mahan, Legacy Resorts

Dear Mr. Mahan,

My name is Avery Scott. I’m one of the principal owners of Arrow Consulting. It’s very nice to meet you. It’s my understanding that Legacy Resorts has requested a proposal presentation from Arrow Consulting at the end of the summer.

First and foremost, thank you for the opportunity. I know you’ve been in touch with my business partner, Mason Richards, but in an effort to make sure I’m thoroughly prepared with a strategy suggestion, would you kindly send over your current marketing reports? Mainly, I’m interested in the click traffic so I can assess your current customer demographics and how many leads are resulting in sales.

If necessary, please feel free to send over an NDA. I’ll be more than happy to sign. I’ve included my number if you have any immediate questions or concerns. I will make myself available.

Thank you.

Regards,

Avery Scott

A soft knock at the front door sounds and I click send in a hurry before I can talk myself out of going over Mason’s head. I shut my laptop and head to the front door, the butterflies in my stomach kicking up.

It’s been a few days since I’ve seen Finn. I decided after our last encounter, he’s more than holding up his end of the bargain. It’s time for me to do my part. I’ve spent the last few days immersed in boudoir photography and all things freelance photography income related, and I have some initial ideas on how Finn can get his business on track.

I open the door to see Finn’s broad back. He’s wearing a thin T-shirt that hugs the bumps and ripples of his well-defined muscles. I know what these muscles feel like. I’ve caressed them, licked them…scratched them. He whips around, two blueberry Red Bulls in his hands.

“Surprise,” he says with a charming smile.

“My hero.” I reach for the drink in his right hand. “These will go great with dinner.” After spinning around, I make my way down the hall, hearing Finn’s heavy footsteps behind me.

“There’s dinner?” he asks. “I thought this was just a business meeting.” I did in fact specifically tell him there would be no sex tonight. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t taking advantage of him, so tonight all we’re doing is talking shop.

“Dinner might be a stretch.” I stop in place and rotate, facing Finn head-on. “I can only really make three things.”

He looks amused. “Being?”

“Baked potatoes, cereal—”

“Does cereal count as making something?” he asks with a teasing smile.

I proceed to roll my eyes. “And dip,” I finish, pointing to Dex’s kitchen table that is currently displaying five different bowls of various dips.

“Holy crap.” Finn follows my finger and assesses the table. “That’s a lot of dip.”

I nod so enthusiastically, my hair falls over my face. “I’m pretty passionate about dip.”

Finn chuckles. He smacks my ass casually, ignoring my girlish yelp as he passes by me. Finn sets his drink down and proceeds to pull the Saran Wrap off each of the glass bowls. “You made these just for me?” he asks, cocking one brow.

“Yep.” Slaved away all day.

He immediately shoves his finger into the first bowl, then shamelessly sucks it clean. “What the hell is this masterpiece?” He dunks his finger in again.

I proceed to fetch the new bag of pretzel rods off the kitchen island and hand it to Finn. He opens it with ease, gleefully dunking the thick pretzel stick into the dip once more. “Honey mustard but with a twist—I use spicy brown mustard and dijon. I know—it shouldn’t work, but it’s tasty, right?”

Mouth full, he nods and gives me a cheesy thumbs-up.

“Don’t fill up,” I say. “We still have buffalo chicken dip—yes, with actual chicken so I can try to pass this off as a real meal, French onion dip for the potato chips, I have French baguette for the bacon cheddar chive dip, and for dessert, banana cream pie dip with Vanilla Wafers.”

Finn looks at me the way you’d look at a puppy tripping over its big ears. Adorably…with a little pity. He’s silent, but his shoulders are shaking, so I know he’s laughing at me.

“What?” I ask. “Look, it’s the best I can do. I struggle in the kitchen…”

He shakes his head, a goofy expression on his face. “You are so cute. Never have I been treated to a feast of dips. This is a new standard for date night, by the way.” Grabbing the bowl of banana cream pie dip, he places a quick kiss on the top of my head as he passes me. “Can we start with dessert?”

Wait, date night?

“Of course.” I collect both of our drinks and a box of crunchy vanilla cookies and join him in the living room. He scowls at me when I join him on the couch, leaving at least a foot of space between us.

Raising up his arm, he invites me to cuddle into his chest and is less than pleased when he sees me grimace. “Okay, what’s with you tonight? Did I do something?” I don’t think anyone else in the world would notice, but I see it—Finn seems to shrivel in his seat. Just a hair. Almost unnoticeable…except I notice. “Are you upset with me?”

“Why would you think that?”

“No kiss hello. You only want to talk business tonight. You’re sitting over there like I’m contagious. I’m counting down the minutes until you start giving me the silent treatment.”

I roll my eyes so hard they strain. “I hate the silent treatment. Such a waste of time. I’d rather be in a screaming match than play the ice out game.”

Finn points to his chest emphatically. “Me too.” He shakes his head like he’s trying to shake off a bad memory. “It was my ex’s favorite game to play. After a while, I started picking up on the little tells that I’m in trouble. Starting with”—he gestures to the space between us—“she wouldn’t let me touch her.”

“Oh, hey—no.” I reach over to squeeze his knee. “Okay, I just…look, I feel guilty.”

He raises his dark brow. “Why?”

“Because all we do is talk about my needs. I promised to help you with your business and I haven’t been doing that. Every time we’re around each other, we seem to—”

“Get naked?”

“Exactly. Is this too much sex? It was just supposed to be a favor.” Leaning forward, I collect the energy drink from the coffee table and pop the lid. These are even more delicious when Finn brings them to me. It’s a telltale sign he’s thinking of me, even when we’re apart.

“It won’t last forever,” he says. My chest immediately tightens as the pang of rejection shocks me.

As a knee-jerk response, I nod enthusiastically, pretending like I’m not caught off guard. “I know. I wasn’t thinking this was serious or anything.”

“No, I mean, it’s fun right now because it’s new. It’s exciting. It always starts this way when you’re with someone new. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying it while it lasts. So yeah—it’s a lot of sex. Great. Let’s have a lot of sex while we can.”

Funny. Mason and I never had a honeymoon period. Did it fade? Absolutely. But I can’t remember it starting off passionate like this. Everything from my past relationship was so careful and calculated and…boring.

“Did you and Nora have a lot of sex?”

“Yes,” Finn responds without hesitation. “Pretty much daily when we were together.”

“Oh.”

“But it wasn’t like this.”

The light flutter in my chest comes alive. My mouth begins to water in anticipation like he’s about to say something really important. All I have to do is ask. “Like what?”

“Nora used sex for control, I think. If I was having sex with her constantly, I couldn’t possibly have the time or energy to be having sex with anyone else. It wasn’t for enjoyment, it was more of a way to prove myself. To prove how much I loved her and wanted her, but even daily wasn’t enough. Nothing I did made her feel less insecure. I was always in trouble. I’d get side glares, silent treatment, hell, sometimes she’d all out scream at me in public. She never trusted that I loved her and only her. No matter what I did, there was always something wrong. I literally was afraid to be around the woman I loved because I knew our next big blowout was just around the corner.”

How strange. Here I never thought people who looked like Finn would have intimacy issues. We were both starving in our prior relationships—just starved of different things.

“That sounds a little like…” I bite down on my lip, debating whether it’s my place to say. But we’re friends. This is something I’d say to any friend. “Emotional abuse.”

Finn closes his eyes and nods. “It took me a really long time to admit that. It didn’t sound manly to admit I was being treated poorly in my relationship.”

I wrap my hand around his fingers and squeeze. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re doing better now.”

Returning my warm smile, he brings my fingers to his lips. “If you’re thinking I’m only doing this so you can save my business, you’re wrong. I like being around you. You make it easy to smile.”

Oh geez. That jolt in my chest. The pulsing shocks and vibrating tremors taking over my body from the inside out are most definitely feelings. Real fucking feelings.

“But I’m starting to feel like I’m using you.” That’s a half-truth. More accurately, I’m starting to worry that I’m blurring lines. It started with no feelings. Now we’re at okay, just feelings for the summer. And I’m getting dangerously close to, heart freaking ripped to shreds when I have to leave this man and get back to reality. “I don’t want you to feel like my sex toy.”

Finn rubs the back of his neck, a sheepish smile creeping across his face. “I’m good with it. Consider me your toy.” He opens his legs into a wide V, as unsubtly as possible. “Play with me.”

I try to hold a straight face, but we both burst into laughter.

“Wow, that was bad…just bad.”

“I know,” he says between breathy chuckles. “Sorry. If I’m being honest, I am so fucking horny right now. It’s been three days since I’ve had you and I’m getting a little dizzy, nauseous, hot flashes, and my vision is blurry.” He puckers his bottom lip.

Is he…begging…for me?

“Are you horny or pregnant?”

He howls in laughter as he pats his lap. “Get over here. You’re my cure, Avery. How about we play first, and then business after?”

“Three days isn’t that long. Also, you have a hand for that.”

He shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. You know how once you’ve tasted real New York-style pizza you can’t go back to cheap delivery?”

“Eh, I’m more of a Chicago deep-dish kind of girl.”

For a moment, he’s distracted as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Deep dish? What the fu—okay, we’ll come back to that. The bottom line is you, sweet girl, are gourmet, and now there’s no way my hand is going to cut it.” He carefully wrestles the can I’m holding out of my grip and sets it aside. Before I can protest, he wraps his hand behind my neck and pulls me to his lips. I briefly allow myself to get swept up, and I kiss him back furiously, enjoying the feel of his tongue on mine. I melt into the powerful way he holds me, so steady, so sure. I start picturing a life with Finn where I’m this happy all the time and it scares me because the minute you like someone…love someone…they have the power to completely destroy you.

“Finn,” I mumble into his mouth when I feel the bulge in his pants starting to grow against my belly. He’s reluctant to break our kiss and when I keep talking, he moves down to my neck as his hand scrambles for the clasp of my bra. “I’ve spent the past few days buried in research. I worked so hard on some ideas for you. I really want to share them with you.”

“After,” he mutters between kisses.

“No. Now. Please.” I fight my body, my heart, and my mind. Stop. Stop before I lose control.

I said the magic word. The two-letter little word that Finn and every man with some goddamn sense should respect: no. He immediately leans back on the couch, letting out a shaky breath, trying to calm his arousal.

“Okay. Sorry. You can’t blame me, though. You just look so pretty tonight all dolled up like that. It’s like you’re purposely trying to tempt me.” Finn eyes me up and down, and I am embarrassed he noticed.

Shit. Okay, so yes, I curled my hair and left it down tonight. I also put on a little makeup. Just the color-correcting moisturizer Lennox showed me at Sephora and a little of the sun-kissed bronzer I bought for both of us. She also introduced me to a line of tinted lip balm that may be my new favorite product. But I’m not trying to look so desperate, so I wish Finn would stop drawing attention to my efforts of being a little more…visually appealing.

Finn tugs at the waist of my shorts. “Are these new?”

Lennox also took me to a couple of clothing stores during our shopping trip. The outfit I’m wearing—high-waisted black bohemian-style shorts with a thick bow around the waist, paired with a form-fitting cream tank top—is the outfit she insisted I buy. Lennox was pulling items off the rack left and right for me to try on at the boutique as if I were her little Barbie doll. She complimented me nonstop, but I felt so out of place. The store was too fashion-forward, all the material was too fancy, and every look was far more chic than I could ever pull off. What I’m presently wearing is the only outfit she could talk me into bringing to the register. When I had second thoughts and tried to put it back on the rack last minute, she ended up buying it for me. I immediately felt guilty she had to whip out her credit card due to my stubbornness.

“Lennox took me shopping. She has a good eye for fashion. She helped me pick a couple of things that would be more flattering for my body type.”

Finn blinks at me so slowly that his eyelids look heavy. It’s almost like he’s trying to force himself to hold something back. “What’s your body type?”

I roll my eyes childishly. This is awkward. I hate talking about it. I’ve never been a confident girl when it comes to looks, but I’ve also never let looks rule my life. I thought I was being mature…perhaps I was just being avoidant. “What do you think my body type is?” I ask, meaning to make him uncomfortable. Maybe he’ll clam up like I am, and we can move on to a different subject.

Except it’s Finn…

I should’ve known he has all the right answers when it comes to this.

“Your body type is damn lucky. Blessed in all the right places.” He traces an hourglass figure in the air with his hands. “Natural and tender and soft. Your body makes me want to curl up next to it, day in and day out. I don’t know what type I’d call it, just know that it’s my favorite type.”

I want to roll my eyes again, scoff, and say he’s just saying all of that to pacify me. But the whole point of our arrangement is teaching me to be more self-assured. What good are his lessons if I refuse to learn?

“Thank you,” I say. “That makes me feel really good about myself. And thank you for noticing I got dressed up.” I bite my bottom lip in contemplation. Go there? Don’t go there? “For you,” I add, “I got dressed up for you.”

He wears the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen on him. “Well, if that’s true, it makes me feel really good about myself. It’s hard to know what you’re thinking sometimes. You keep a lot to yourself.”

I squint at him. “Are you kidding? I asked you to be my sex sensei because I’m wildly inept in the bedroom. It really doesn’t get much more in your face than that.”

“Your feelings,” Finn says like it’s a clear explanation. But I don’t understand, so I just shrug. “You’ll openly admit to your insecurities, but you won’t actually say how they make you feel. It’s like you try to judge yourself before anyone else can. It’s strategic. In fact, everything you do is poised and careful. And sure, you cried around me once, but I think those tears were more out of frustration than anything. If you think you’re being vulnerable…eh, well, I can tell you try really hard to be more realistic than emotional. It seems lonely.”

I lean back against the couch cushions and tuck my knees to my chest. “Since when are my emotions someone else’s responsibility? My issues are my burden to bear.”

Finn waits until I meet his eyes. He’s so demanding when it comes to eye contact. Maybe because he knows his icy blue eyes seem to tear down my walls. “Burden me, Avery. I want you to.”

I let the stupid tears well in my eyes and I feel smaller than I ever have before. I wish Finn could understand that we don’t see the world the same way. He will never understand what it is to be the ugly duckling. He will also never understand that I’m okay with being the ugly duckling. I’m okay with pajama bottoms, messy buns, and a couple of stains on my T-shirt. I’m fine with pizza pockets for dinner. I don’t want to lose myself. I just want to like myself. I want to figure out what I need from my sex life and then I want to find another ugly duckling, so we can live happily together, in the same world where we can swim and waddle at exactly the same pace.

I don’t want to fall for a man I would be terrified of losing because I’m not good enough for him. I’m a nice person, I’m easy to talk to, and I’m right in front of Finn’s face. Of course he’s intrigued…for now. But it won’t last. The moment we step out of this bubble, he’ll understand how mismatched we really are. But I know if I say all this to Finn, he’ll just come up with some poetic excuse to tell me how wonderful I am, and honestly, I’m sick of hearing it.

“Do you still want to have sex?”

He cocks one eyebrow. “That’s one hell of a response.”

“I’m serious.”

“Of course I do.”

“And you’ll listen to my ideas for your business later? And pay attention?”

He tries to hide his gleeful smile. “Absolutely.”

“Okay, then for our next lesson,” I say as I drop to the floor and kneel between Finn’s legs. “Teach me how to give good head.”

She actually looks studious with her head cocked to the side, waiting for instructions. Avery’s kneeling in front of me, her pretty eyes blinking at me expectantly. Her low-cut tank top is a siren’s song and the top bumps of her perfect round tits have my head muddled with all kinds of disgraceful thoughts. I’m pining for her, but in a way, she’s already mine. Right? But then why doesn’t she feel mine?

I like Avery exactly the way I met her. Every time I call her beautiful, it’s genuine. But the way she brought her A-game tonight is stirring up something territorial in me. I’m jealous for some reason, and I don’t know why. It’s just the two of us here.

“You’re not sleeping with anyone else, right?”

“What?” she asks, incredulous, her face twisting up in surprise. “Why would you ask that?”

“We never established we’d be exclusive throughout the deal.” I run my thumb from the base of her earlobe to the bottom of her chin and she leans away from my touch, her surprised expression turning into an accusatory one as her eyes narrow.

“Um, I thought that was implied when I let you fuck me without a condom. Wait. Are you sleeping with other women?” Her eyes widen to cartoon proportions and she begins to rise off her knees. I immediately plant my hands on her shoulders and press her back down as I scoot to the edge of the couch.

“Avery Scott, calm the fuck down. No. Of course not. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

“Same page, same page,” she mutters, but I can see her chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Good. It’s not just me. I hope the idea of me with another woman makes her sick because I’d be willing to rip another man to shreds right now.

Reaching over Avery’s shoulder to the coffee table, I dip my finger into the bowl of banana cream pie dip and scoop out a large dollop. I taste it first. “Mmm, that’s really good. I love banana cream pie. Second only to coconut cream pie. Although this dip has me reconsidering.” I hold my finger, still half-coated in dessert, to her lips. “Open your mouth.”

Avery drops her jaw and I insert my finger a little farther back than she was expecting. She gags on the tip of my forefinger when it touches the back of her throat. “Sorry,” she says, sputtering. “Wasn’t ready. I’m okay now. Try again.”

“Don’t overthink this, baby. Suck.”

She takes my finger in her mouth again and this time swirls her tongue around the tip before pulling her mouth away. My finger falls off her lips with a pop.

“Good girl.” My cock twitches in anticipation. Goddamn, I love our sexy games. Especially because I know she only plays them with me. “It’s simple. Lots of pressure, keep it really wet, and make sure you let me know how much you like it.”

“That’s it?” she asks, licking her lips, making the last remnants of the sweet dip on her lips disappear.

“That’s it.”

She reaches for my waistband and I bridge my hips, letting her pull down my athletic pants and briefs. After tossing them aside, her gaze toggles from my growing erection to my eyes. “This would be a little easier if you were smaller.”

I chuckle at her roundabout compliment. She’s cute, but my mind is elsewhere. I want her warm, wet mouth. Right now. “I’m sure you’ll manage. Also, give me those perfect tits.” Leaning forward, I scoop her breasts out of her tank top and bra, one by one. I palm, squeeze, and knead firmly, possessively. Mine. She’s mine. These are mine to enjoy. I want to wake up next to these…to her. Every day.

My wandering thoughts are wiped clean when I feel her tongue flicking at the tip of my cock. Avery’s wearing a mischievous smile, a little glint of angst in her eyes. “You like to be teased, right?”

“At the moment? No.” I inch forward, trying to guide myself into her mouth, but she presses her lips together—no entry.

“You make me beg for it almost every time,” she mumbles. She flicks her tongue once more, swirling it around my now glistening tip. The sensation is just enough to ignite me but not to satisfy anything. “Payback is a bitch.”

“Avery,” I grumble. “You’re so sexy.” I fix my eyes on her heavy tits and pert nipples, jostling around as she scoots forward on her knees. “We can play any other night, but right now I need you. Please, just—”

“Ah, there’s the magic word,” she mutters right before she engulfs me.

I groan in relief. Fuck, it feels good. If her pussy is my home, her mouth is my vacation. Covering her teeth with her lips, she clamps down and runs her mouth up and down half of my shaft. I’m losing my fucking mind from her moans and whimpers. She even sings my praises in between sucking—you taste so good, you’re so big, I want your dick forever, Finn.

She executes flawlessly. I’m more than pleased, but Avery pulls back, unsatisfied. Wrapping her hand around the base of my shaft, she tries to take in more of me but can barely swallow down half of my cock.

“Dammit,” she says, frustrated at her failed attempt to deep-throat.

“You don’t have to do that,” I say. “This is perfect. You’ll make me come just like this.”

“No…I…” She leans away and leaves my needy dick unattended for a moment as she examines the length. “It’s possible, right? Or are you too big? Could Nora do it?”

“Whoa, hey.” I wipe the dot of spit from the corner of her mouth with my thumb. “Don’t do that. I don’t want to hear her name when I’m with you. Don’t compare yourself.” There’s no comparison. “You really want to try?”

She nods, a look of determination mixed with stubbornness flickering in her soft green eyes. “Just out of curiosity.”

“Spit on it, get it really wet.” She does as I ask and strokes my throbbing cock, ensuring the entire thing is slick with her saliva. I weave my hand through her hair, cupping the back of her head. “Good girl. Relax. Breathe through your nose and don’t panic. Just take as much as you can. Believe me, that’s plenty. When it’s too much, just pull back. We’ll stop.”

“Okay.”

“Hold out your tongue.”

I play there for a minute, rubbing my tip against her flattened tongue, and then before she can close her lips around me, I pull her head forward sliding half of my length into her mouth, nudging the back of her throat. She immediately sputters and gags. Shit. But when I try to pull away, she grips my hips. Determined, she takes in more and more until there are tears running down her cheek, and her eyes grow red. She draws me in again. Over and over. Determined as all hell. I eventually watch her breathing start to steady—in and out, through her nose. The panic subsides. After several more tries, I watch in surprise as most of my cock disappears down her throat. She can only hold it for a second, and she rips away, gasping for air. She’s breathing hard, her face flushed, her eyes still watering, but she looks thoroughly pleased with herself.

“There we go, that’s closer. Seventh time’s the charm.” There’s a silly smile on her face. But I’m in no mood for jokes.

Goddamn, that was sexy. So fucking sexy. My balls clench, and I grab my pulsing cock in my hand.

“Avery, baby, can you swallow for me?” I ask between my ragged breaths.

“Yes.”

“Good girl, just take the tip and hold my balls.”

Stroking myself, I talk her through my release until I spill down her throat. I go rigid as I groan in delight, emptying every last drop into her mouth. I wait for her audible gulp until I slump back into the couch, the fabric soft against my bare ass. Sorry, Dex.

“Good job, baby.” I praise her wholeheartedly and she’s glowing under the attention. “You did so—”

I’m interrupted when Avery’s phone rings loud from the kitchen, cutting the tension between us. She immediately jumps up, but her legs must have fallen asleep from being on her knees for so long. She winces and stumbles and I reach out to help steady her, but she recovers too quickly, darting over to her phone. I watch her puzzled expression as she scours the caller ID.

She points to the phone. “I think it’s work. I have to—”

“Go ahead.”

“Hello, this is Avery Scott,” she says into the phone as I proceed to pull on my briefs and pants. “Mr. Mahan, I wasn’t expecting a call. Thank you.”

The angry beast in my chest rumbles. It’s the “Mr.” that irks me. It’s work. Calm down, Finn. This could be a crusty old dude in his sixties for all I know, but I can’t shake this greedy urge that reared its ugly head tonight with Avery. It’s official. I want her for myself. No one is going to treat her like I will. No other man will be as dedicated as I am to making this woman see how beautiful she is, inside and out. If I can do it best, then she should just be with me. It’s that simple. Yes, it’s too soon. Sure, we’re on a timeline. I know it’s just a damn deal for the summer—but I don’t care.

I’m happy. I’m fucking happy. I bet I can make her happy too.

Avery, completely unaware of my sudden revelation, continues to talk in a foreign tone. I’m learning her business voice sounds just like a flight attendant.

“Well, that was my primary concern as well. From the preliminary research I’ve done, it looks like commercials are a good idea, but I don’t think local cable is your best option. Streaming services are ideal, but timing is everything. Especially for your click traffic, summer is not the time to heavily invest—trips are already planned. You needed to make the placements around the end of February. That’s the sweet spot. Consumers have mostly recovered from the holidays and are debating between investing in spring break or summer travel plans… Right, exactly…”

I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about, but she adjusts her tits back into her tank top and straightens her back before she begins pacing. Even barefoot, she looks like a boss at the moment. She’s suddenly wearing her sexy, take-over-the-world, confident, I-got-this attitude. It’s such a turn-on, and if she’s up for it, I’m going to rest for ten minutes and then bend her over this couch.

“Mr. Mahan, I’d love to talk numbers, but would you mind holding for just a moment… Okay, thank you.”

“Finn?” Avery asks, turning her attention to me.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“I just put the Chief of Marketing for Legacy Resorts on hold. That’s the multimillion-dollar contract I told you I’m trying to land. He’s about to conference in the Chief Financial Officer and VP because apparently, they’ve been eager to chat with me. I have to—”

I hold up my palms as I rise. “Say no more.” I cross the space between us.

“You don’t have to go,” she says. “But…this might take a while.”

Leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead, I breathe in her hair, enjoying the smell of tropical, ginger, and mint. “You focus. I’ll see myself out.” I grab the bowl behind her on the kitchen table. “But I’m taking the buffalo chicken dip.”

She giggles. “All yours. Oh, but heat it up first.” She catches my hand and squeezes it tenderly. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course. Oh, and, Queen?”

She melts under that nickname. I love it when the color fills her cheeks when she swoons for me.

“That head? Ten out of ten, baby.”

With that, I leave her to her call, feeling a medley of new emotions at once: satisfied…hopeful…happy…ready.

I’m ready for this.