Camera Shy: Chapter 6

I charge through the gate separating my yard from Dex’s. I’m not angry. The damn springs have too much tension. You have to rip through it or it’ll snap back and smack you in the face. I learned that lesson the tough way.

Innocent or not, me barreling through the gate like a bull startles the woman who is already in the hot tub. Her eyes bulge in surprise as her arm instinctively flies across her chest, sending a spray of water in my direction. I recognize her immediately from outside of Dex’s driveway today.

Neither of us says anything.

She’s frozen with a look of terror like I’m about to mug her.

Her green-gray eyes gleaming under the overhead deck lights stun me a little. Maybe just gray? I don’t know. They are so light they almost look ghostly. They are hauntingly enthralling.

“Who are you?” she finally asks. “And why are you smiling like that?”

Because I love when my hunches are right. I knew you were pretty. I drag my hand over my mouth and wipe the smug smirk off my face.

“I’m Finn.” I nod over my shoulder while holding out the six-pack of Alaskan Amber. “I’m Dex’s neighbor. Who are you?”

She tightens her forearm around her chest and sinks an inch lower under the water line. “You just barge into your neighbor’s private residence at nine o’clock at night, uninvited?”

Fair point. It takes me a moment to realize why she’s holding herself so tightly and her entire demeanor is so defensive. I try to hold in my chuckle. “You know Dex has a very serious girlfriend, right?”

“Yes.” She squints at me.

“Just making sure, seeing as you’re topless in his hot tub.”

She looks down at the bubbling water. “You can see me?” Her cheeks go from pink to red, once warm from the steam, now burning with embarrassment.

“No.” I shake my head to reassure her. “Not with the jets on, but you’ve got no straps and you’re holding your breasts like they might fall off, so I just assumed.” I shrug.

To my utter pleasant surprise, she bursts out in a laugh. A rich, melodic laugh, punctuated with an adorably dorky snort.

“What’s so funny?”

She timidly raises her shoulders, ensuring all the important parts of her body stay covered under the water line. “Today has just been the weirdest fucking day. Of course it ends like this.”

“Like what?” I take one step forward.

“With the hot runner catching me skinny dipping in the hot tub.”

Hot runner, huh? I’ll take it.

With her free hand that doesn’t have her full tits wrapped in a death lock, she points to the three sides of the eight-foot privacy fence. “I made sure no one could see me. I didn’t anticipate anyone coming through the gate. Dex failed to mention you’d be stopping by.”

“He didn’t know. He lets me use his hot tub whenever I want.” I take another step forward and hold out the six-pack. “In exchange, I bring him beer. What’re you doing here?” I have a clear view of her doll-like face, now. Her striking eyes were easy to notice from three paces back. But I can appreciate her full cheeks and pink pouty lips much better from up close.

“I’m pet sitting”—she cocks her head to the side—“or more like fish sitting for Dex this summer. He’s guiding scuba tours for the next couple of months straight.”

“Oh.” Makes sense. Dex has a weird obsession with his fish. He has about seven tanks in his home. I always expect his place to smell fishy, but it’s surprisingly fresh every time I’ve been over. “He didn’t tell me you were staying here or I wouldn’t have barged in on you like this. I can go…” I say it as a statement, but I mean it as a question.

Of course I’ll give her back her privacy, but I’m really hoping she’s in the mood for company. It’s not just that my aching lower back and stiff quads really could use a long soak, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been this curious about a woman before I even know her name.

She points to the six-pack in my hand. “That’s a really good beer.”

My smile spreads wide. “You know Alaskan Amber? I feel like everyone I meet is a die-hard Killian’s fan.”

She scrunches her face and shakes her head. “Alaskan is so much smoother. Plus, I like the company’s back story better.”

“Back story?”

“I’m a brand strategist.” She rolls her wrist in the air. “I pay attention to a company’s origin story as a part of their branding package—” She abruptly stops and rolls her eyes. “Sorry, not interesting. It’s Friday night. Who wants to talk about work?”

I nod, but I actually don’t find it uninteresting at all. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Oh, sorry.” She instinctively rises with her hand extended, until apparently, she remembers she’s topless and immediately slams back into the tub to hide her body, causing the water to splash out onto the deck on all sides.

This time I openly laugh. I’ve seen so many sets of tits between my work life and my sex life, I’m immune. But her shyness is endearing. “I didn’t see anything,” I say between hearty huffs of laughter.

“I’m Avery,” she mumbles, looking up at the pergola strung with lights above us, refusing to look at me. “Avery Scott.”

“Well, Avery Scott, I’ll let you enjoy your evening.” I take a step backward as a test.

“Wait!”

Thankfully, she passes.

Her smile reminds me of the one before, from the car this morning. Genuine. Sincere. She must be starting to relax. Especially now that she’s probably aware I’m not here to rob her. “Don’t be silly. You clearly wanted to use the hot tub. I’m pretty much done.”

I nod at her. It’s a bit of a reach, but I take my shot. “Or maybe we both stay? Do you want some company? I can share my beer,” I say, raising one brow. “I’d love to find out what the hell a brand strategist is.”

To my great surprise, she slowly nods. I really thought she was going to take the out. “Sure. Sounds good. But could you turn around first and close your eyes so I can grab my towel? I’ll put on a swimsuit and come back.”

I set my six-pack down on the deck where I’m standing and walk over to fetch the fluffy green towel draped over the patio chair behind us. Squatting down near the edge of the tub, I offer her the towel. With my other hand, I point to the far side of the hot tub. “I can just stay on my side and I told you, I can’t see anything.” I force myself to lock onto her peculiarly light eyes and don’t dare let my gaze scour what it wants to.

“Thank you,” she says, matching my stare with a clipped smile. “But it’s not so much that I’m topless…it’s that I’m not wearing any bottoms either.” Avery points to the deck, where I should leave the towel, and then rotates her finger in the air. I rise, then obediently follow directions and spin around. I even cover my eyes.

I hear the water falling off her and splashing into the tub as she must be climbing out in a hurry.

“Okay, I’m decent.”

I spin back around to see Avery secured in the oversized green fluffy towel. She’s a little shorter than I was picturing. I’m barely over six-foot, yet I really tower over her.

“I’ll be right back.”

She makes her way through the glass sliding door, leaving me alone with the tub, my beer, and a whole lot of anticipation for a night that just got far more interesting.

“Want one more?” Finn asks, removing the last two bottles of Alaskan Amber from the cardboard six-pack. Using the bottle opener he brought, he pops both lids.

“Why not? No one’s driving tonight. We can be sloppy.”

He smirks. “Two beers get you sloppy?” He rises and crosses no man’s land, finding me on the opposite side of the hot tub. He holds out one bottle. I take it, but this time he stays on my side. I don’t blame him. We’ve basically been shouting at each other across the tub for the past twenty minutes. It’s hard to make conversation over the loud rumble of the jets.

“Nope, but three might,” I say before taking a swig of the fresh beer. Mmm. It’s crisp. I took too long to finish my last bottle and did not appreciate the bitter, flat end, warmed by the steam of the tub.

“Cheers to sloppy then.” Finn points over my shoulder to Dex’s house. “Your commute home seems manageable.” He shoots me a little wink and I purposely ignore the flutter in my chest.

Finn is easily the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in person. I’m thoroughly convinced he accidentally wandered out of some woman’s fantasy and got stuck here in reality. He’s even fitter than I realized this morning. Runners are usually lean. The way he had his legs secured with athletic tape, I assumed he’s a serious runner, but up close it’s clear that his exercise routine includes far more than cardio.

His entire left arm is tatted as well. I’ve seen a lot of tribal sleeves but never something like this. I can’t make out all the pictures with his arm bobbing in and out of the water, but the image starting on his broad, muscular shoulder is a ghost pirate ship. The sails are tattered, and there’s half a skull on one of the main sails. The intricate designs show off some seriously impressive artistic ability. I’ve never seen a tattoo like this, which should be slapped on a canvas and hung in a museum.

It really adds to Finn’s already peak-level attractiveness.

Which actually makes it much easier to talk to him.

I am not one bit nervous about sharing a beer and a conversation with the Adonis next to me in the bubbling hot tub. The reason is simple. He’s so damn hot that I’ve friend-zoned the shit out of him. He’s in the no-touch zone, locked in a box, key flung into the ocean, because there is no way on God’s green earth that I can handle an unrequited crush situation right now. He’s so far out of my league, it hurts. But he’s also funny and smiley, and our conversation is a welcome distraction from the fact that I’ll be spending the night alone.

The first night by myself. I left my home and moved immediately onto Palmer’s couch. This will be the first night I’m truly by myself and have to face the music that this is my new reality. Alone.

“So what exactly does a brand strategist do?” Finn asks as his baby blue eyes lock on mine. Obviously, he has pretty eyes and dark lashes that accentuate them. Because all Grecian gods have sexy eyes that can stun you into oblivion.

I take a quick swig of my beer. “The simplest way to explain it is I evaluate brands and provide them with guidance on how to adjust their marketing to monetize and scale.”

He blinks at me. “That’s the vaguest response I think I’ve ever heard.”

I laugh. “Okay, how about this? I help brands come up with a game plan to be visible and competitive. So I do a lot of industry research and help companies plan their branding image. I consult on everything from logos and print material to blueprints for product packaging if they sell tangible products. I do web design and help develop a pricing strategy.” I raise my brows at Finn. “I could continue…”

He squints one eye at me. “All that stuff is necessary for a business to bring in money?”

I cinch my eyes closed and nod. “Definitely. Eighty percent of being profitable is being visible. Yes, having a good product or service is important, but it really doesn’t matter unless customers know you exist. Most businesses fail not because they aren’t competitive. It’s just because people don’t know about them.”

Finn points at me. “That’s exactly what I’m dealing with right now.” He takes another long swig of his beer before setting it on the deck behind him. “I’m having the hardest time finding clients.”

“What do you work in?”

He hesitates for a brief moment, then says with confidence, “Photography.”

“Ah, that’s a tricky one. Unless you have a niche, the market is saturated. Not to mention there are really no barriers to entry. Anyone can be a photographer, and the prestige of names like Ansel Adams is a thing of the past. Not to mention, video content is superior these days.”

He blinks at me in surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be discouraging. I just meant you’re probably a great photographer, but it’s a hard business to sustain.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He braces against the deck and hoists himself out of the tub. Sitting on the edge of the deck, his legs dangle two inches from my shoulder. “I’m hot. Are you hot? I need a break.”

I shrug as I turn my head. “I’m not too—” I choke on my spit when I realize I’m at eye level with his crotch. His trunks are soaked and are melded to the outline of his dick, which is in-your-face massive.

“Whoa, you okay?” He pats my shoulder, likely because he’s unable to reach my back pressed against the hot tub wall.

“Beer…wrong pipe…” I manage to say through sputtering, but I notice his eyes dart from me to the beer resting on the deck behind me, which I haven’t touched in at least a minute.

“What?”

“Okay, fine,” I mumble, then clear my throat one more time. “You’re…” I twist my wrist. “You know…kind of on display.”

His eyes fall to his lap. “Oh, sorry.” Finn immediately unties his trunks as he spreads his legs into a wide V. He slips his hand underneath his waistband, grabs his dick, and tucks it out of sight. How that’s possible, I don’t know. His penis could probably be spotted from outer space. I’d like to say I have more self-control, but no, I watched the entire fiasco with my mouth wide open. “Better?” he asks, completely unashamed.

“Mhmm,” I mumble. I grab my beer and chug just to have something to do.

“I guess we’re even now,” he says with a chuckle.

“Excuse me?”

Finn shrugs nonchalantly like we’re talking about what we had for lunch. “I saw your tits earlier.”

I gawk. Caught off guard, I do the most childish thing I can think of and throw a handful of water at his face. “You said you couldn’t see anything.”

Laughing, he holds up his hands in surrender as I cup my hand to prepare another water grenade. “I couldn’t in the hot tub, but you dropped your towel when you got into the living room. You must’ve forgotten about the windows in there.” He points to the left side of the deck where Dex’s living room is in clear sight through enormous clear glass panes. So clear in fact, I can see that Cherry has finally finished swimming around in a frenzy and is nowhere in sight.

Fuck me. I dropped my towel right in front of the damn fish tank. Of course he saw everything.

I was in such a hurry to get dressed, I threw on my bra, tank top, and underwear where I’d left them earlier on Dex’s navy sectional. When I decided to hot tub naked this evening, it wasn’t because I was trying to be sensual. It was because I didn’t bring a swimsuit. Because I don’t like getting into swimsuits. I hate the beach. I don’t like being photographed half naked unlike the millions of other Californians who go to the beach for selfie photo shoots. How nice it must be to have a body you don’t mind documented.

I’m not even really a hot tub kind of girl, but I got a massive headache from all the hysteric crying after I got off the phone with Mason. I couldn’t find any painkillers in Dex’s home and I’m stranded without my car. A relaxing hot soak seemed like an interim remedy for my throbbing head.

I scowl at Finn. “And you looked?”

His shoulders shake as he lets out a soundless laugh. “I didn’t look. It just happened right in front of my eyes. If it makes you feel better, the back of the couch blocked everything from the waist down.”

I bury my face in my hands, breathing in the strong chlorine aroma. “I’m so sorry.”

“What?”

I let out a defeated laugh or more like a grumble. Maybe something in-between. “Sorry you had to see that.” I assume the baby raccoon protective position. If I can’t see Finn, he can’t see me…

But I hear him.

There’s a little splash as he slides back into the hot tub.

And I feel him.

Large hands gently peel mine from my face. His baby blues are two inches from my face. “Avery, did you just apologize to me because I saw you half naked?”

I don’t feel like this is the kind of question that needs a response. The way he’s looking at me is intimidating. He looks almost agitated. Standing this close to me, I realize how much larger he is than me. I never feel like the petite woman in the room, but Finn is making me feel really small at the moment.

“I see this all the time at my job,” he continues as he keeps his hands loosely locked around my wrists. He must know the second he releases them, they’ll snap right back to my face so I can hide again. “Apologizing about your body is ridiculous. Please don’t ever do that for me or for anyone else, okay?”

His intense stare is making me wildly uncomfortable, yet at the same time, I’m relieved he can read my mind. “Your job?” I wriggle my wrists in his grip and he immediately releases me.

“I run a boudoir photography studio.” He settles back into his seat in the corner of the hot tub.

“Oh. That’s definitely niche…yet you’re having trouble finding clients?”

“It’s not like I can really advertise some of my best work.”

“You shoot nudes?”

Finn shrugs. “Occasionally.” For the first time since he graced this deck with his presence, I see him flush, just slightly. “It’s not what you think. It’s all very tasteful.”

I cross my arms as my mind wanders. From what I understand, boudoir photography is trending. I think I remember reading some sort of statistic about how “boudoir” is one of the highest searched photography keywords next to wedding. “How’s your website health? Click traffic? Is it mobile optimized?”

My questions seem to surprise him. “Are you about to go all brand strategist on me?”

I shoot him a glib smile. “Yup,” I say, popping the P at the end of my response.

He shrinks a bit in his seat, sinking half an inch lower into the water. “It’s okay, I think.”

I give him a mischievous smile. “What’s your business name?”

“It’s just Finn Harvey photography.”

“So…let me guess, finn-harvey-photography-dot-com? Two Ns?”

He nods slowly, then his forehead crinkles as he watches my teasing smile spread. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. It’s audit time, buddy. Let’s check your work.”

He lunges for me, but I’m shockingly too quick. With far more grace than I could pray for, I pop my ass out of the water onto the deck, swivel my legs around, and dart to my phone lying by Dex’s fancy built-in grill.

Finn is right behind me. We’re soaking the deck with chlorinated hot tub water. I shake my hands off before unlocking my phone. He wraps one arm around my rib cage from behind and tries to snatch my phone out of my hand as he chuckles against my ear.

“Not fair. I haven’t put in the marketing effort I probably should’ve. I’m totally unprepared for an audit.”

I laugh and hold my phone as far above my head as I can. He could easily take it from me as his reach far surpasses mine, but I get the feeling his arm is wrapped around me simply because he wants to touch me…

Is this…no…wait. Is he flirting?

He squeezes my rib cage gently and I nearly keel over from the ticklish feeling.

Holy shit. Is this flirting?

I almost ask him, until my phone vibrates in my hand. The notification banner preview shocks me so much I nearly throw up in my mouth.

I pull at Finn’s arm. He takes the cue and releases me. My whole demeanor changes in an instant and Finn looks concerned.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I ignore him, unable to speak as I open my text messages.

I might as well be in a movie. The entire set stills, and I’m sure the camera would zone in on my dismal facial expression with suspenseful music. My heart is pounding so hard I bet Finn can feel it from two steps away from me.

This text message wasn’t for me. I know because Mason doesn’t do that for me.

Maybe once or twice in our entire four years together has he put his head between my thighs. He told me it’s just not his style. He also would never speak to me that way. Never once in our entire relationship has he said the word pussy to me or around me.

But that word certainly isn’t the most shocking from the message. It’s the over a month, and the again part that’s making me feel sick.

The fucking bastard lied.

The cogs start spinning in my mind. He lied. He cheated on me. He’s been cheating on me. When? How is that possible? All he does is work…with me. Then it hits me. That’s why he wants this breakup to be amicable. He needs me for this contract. He’s known about Legacy Resorts for far longer than he’s led on. He’s using me.

Holy shit. I feel nearly nauseous and woozy, like my knees are going to give out. I watch the steam rising from the top of the hot tub and try to slip away with it.

Just float. Just disappear. Just rise…

“Avery, are you okay?” Finn’s low, honey-sweet tone is alluring enough that it pulls me back to reality.

Dammit. I was so close to just drifting away right back to numb.

“Hey, I, um…” I take a few steps backward toward my towel. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”

He scours my face. “Okay?” His lips twitch. “Is my website that bad?” He forces a chuckle, but his eyes are narrowed in concern.

“I didn’t look,” I mumble absentmindedly. I text Mason back before I can change my mind. I want him to know he’s caught.

The minute my message says delivered, Mason calls me. He’s panicking, I’m sure. I would be too. Right now, I’m the key to unlocking a million dollars. If I were him, I’d be scared shitless.

I silence his call. Let him sweat. I hope he’s distracted as all hell when he’s fucking Maura tonight.

“Sorry, Finn,” I say, trying to refocus on the man in front of me, but all I can see is Mason’s face. His blotchy, anguished red face from the restaurant when he told me he loved me and would never cheat on me… “I need to get to bed but don’t feel like you have to rush out. Would you mind turning the hot tub off and covering it back up when you’re done?”

“Okay,” he says.

I can tell he wants to ask more, but he doesn’t. Thank you, Finn. Thank God this man knows exactly what I need right now. Privacy. So I can shatter into a million tiny pieces.

“Have a good night.”

I freeze, trying to hold back the tears for a moment longer. Don’t fucking cry, Avery. This is embarrassing enough. Don’t be that girl. This is just icing on the shit cake. You and Mason are already over…

Except maybe I didn’t believe that. Maybe I thought time and space would heal all. Maybe I thought Mason would miss me enough to come to his senses.

Maybe I’m the dumbest girl on the planet.

“Good night, Finn,” I say over my shoulder as I slip through the sliding glass doors into the house.