Camera Shy: Chapter 7

“Ican assure you this isn’t mine,” I say to the grocery delivery man standing on my doorstep. He looks agitated like I’m the last delivery of the day…except I didn’t order any groceries.

“I don’t know what to tell you, man. The order says 297 Fisher Street.” He steps back and points to the house numbers on my side paneling. “This is 297 Fisher Street.” He holds two plastic grocery bags out insistently. “Are you sure you didn’t just forget you ordered something?”

Sighing in exasperation, I take the bag from his left hand. I peek inside and see a blue box of tampons, a small tube of scented sensual lubricant, and a brown eyebrow pencil. “I live alone, man. I don’t have a need for tampons.”

“I guess I could just take them back, but we don’t do refunds.”

The eyebrow pencil is a shade nearly identical to Avery’s hair. “Just leave them. I think I know where they’re supposed to go.”

He shrugs and then hands me the other bag. Without further question, he flees down the driveway, cranks his car, and the blaring sound of Latin rap fills the street. I close my front door and head out into the warm evening air to Dex’s house.

Our houses are similar in design, except Dex has at least an extra fifteen hundred square feet. I have paneling. He has stucco. His landscaping makes my little rose bushes out front look like a joke. Everything about Dex’s house screams money, but my favorite part about the guy is he’s so down to earth. Dex is a good friend and I would’ve happily checked in on his fish over the summer. I wonder why he didn’t just ask me for help. He probably assumed I had more interesting plans than excessive runs in the torturous Las Vegas heat. Not to mention there was that one time I fed his fish cereal, but I stand by it. There was no fish food left and I couldn’t let them starve.

Then again, I’m not complaining because meeting Avery was a pleasant surprise. Until she freaked out and ditched me in the backyard last week, I was really enjoying the conversation. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt at ease around a girl.

I snort to myself remembering she put on a tank top to get in the hot tub with me. It’s been a while since a girl has been that modest around me, too. I wonder if she’d be put off knowing that her ample tits have popped into my mind a time or two since I accidentally saw her undress.

I debated asking her out, but she’s only here for the summer. She has fling written all over her and that’s exactly what I’m not trying to do with my life right now. The irony. The first interesting woman I’ve met in months is, of course, not an actual resident of Las Vegas.

Holding both plastic bags in one hand, I ring Dex’s doorbell. After waiting a full minute, I raise my finger to ring once more, but in perfect timing, Avery rips the door open.

Good God.

She looks like a mess.

Avery’s hair is in a high sloppy ponytail. Her oversized T-shirt looks like it was once a dog’s chewing toy. It’s also stained with what I pray is pizza sauce or something.

“You.” She rolls her eyes when she sees me and grumbles. “Would you consider showing up unannounced when I’m not naked or wildly unpresentable?”

“Wow.” I can’t help but smile at her unamused pout. “That’s a rude way to greet the man who comes bearing gifts.” I hold up the grocery bags. “By gifts I mean tampons, of course.”

She hangs her head. “They got delivered to you?”

I nod in response and watch her gaze snap up to mine.

“Wait. You went through my groceries?” She’s trying to sound cross, but her cheeks are bunched in that cute smile.

“I had to confirm they weren’t my tampons…or lube.”

There’s an audible smack when her hands hit her face. “Kill me now,” she mumbles through her fingers as I fall into heaves of laughter. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“I didn’t ask.” I hold out the bags to her. “Feels like there’s something cold in here.”

“Ice cream,” she admits.

“You might want to pop it in the freezer.”

She takes the bags. “Thank you. I must’ve fat-fingered the delivery address. Sorry they bothered you.”

I shrug. “Not at all. It was a good excuse to come over and make sure you were okay.” But is she? Now that I’m only an arm’s length away from her, I notice her swollen eyes and the red tip of her nose. It’s a clear sign that she’s been crying. “Are you…okay?”

“Nope.” She peers into one of the plastic bags. “But a little better now that my dinner’s here…which is melting, so I better—” She throws her head back, gesturing inside.

I can take a hint, so I nod and turn to leave…

But something stops me. Dammit, Finn. It’s not your business. But fuck. When a woman cries like that, I usually know the reason. And if I can help, shouldn’t I?

“Avery, are you only eating ice cream for dinner?”

She purses her lips. “Well, it’s a quart of rocky road, so believe me, I’m hitting the calorie count.”

I snort. “Dex keeps a stockpile of grass-fed, organic ribeye steaks in the chest freezer in his garage. They are worth like thirty bucks a piece. Knowing Dex, he probably told you to help yourself to whatever, right?”

She nods. “But I don’t really know how to cook a steak, so it’s a moot point.”

I move toward her, stalling halfway through the door. “Well, I do. Want some company?”

She shifts, just slightly. Angling her shoulders and hips, she allows just enough room for me to squeeze past her into Dex’s house.

I hear her soft footsteps behind me as I head toward the kitchen.

“But I can still eat my ice cream, too, right?”

“Finn Harvey, you are a man of many talents.” Avery arches her back, purposely protruding her belly before she pats it. “I’m assuming at least. I haven’t seen your photographs, but you sure as hell grill a mean steak.”

“You sure?” I ask from across the couch. “You barely touched your food.”

I nod toward the dining table that still holds the remnants of our dinner. We found a bag of salad to pair with our steaks. My plate is nearly cleared. Avery poked a few lettuce leaves and took maybe three bites of meat.

She widens her eyes at me. “No, it was superb…my appetite is just a little off.”

Pointing to the grocery bag holding the box of tampons still on the kitchen island, I raise my brows at her. “Lady stuff?”

Her head knocks back against the soft couch as she laughs. “No, lady stuff tends to have the opposite effect,” she says with a smirk. “What I have is a cheating bastard of an ex-boyfriend…stuff.”

I really think she meant it as a joke, but her eyes immediately fill with tears. I’m getting a feeling she’s a smile-through-the-pain kind of girl. She nestles deeper into the couch and grabs a square throw pillow. Hugging it tightly to her chest, she draws her knees in, curling herself into a ball, like she’s trying to make herself as tiny as possible.

Her eyes are glued on one of Dex’s built-in aquariums, and I seem to lose her to her thoughts again. I break the silence and try bringing her back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She answers with her eyes still fixed on the fish tank. “I just found out, the other night when you were over, so the wound is still pretty fresh. My best and only friend in the world landed a lead role on a big deal TV pilot. It could be her big break and I don’t want to distract her right now. My parents don’t know Mason and I broke up, and I moved out here for the summer. I literally have no one to talk to.” She turns her head, looking at me, and I finally pinpoint the color of her eyes. Hazy. Light. A little more green than blue. They are seafoam green. “So don’t offer unless you mean it.”

“Hmm,” I say, rising.

She looks immediately horrified, misinterpreting my actions and probably thinking I’m trying to excuse myself. I feel her eyes on me as I head to the kitchen and scour Dex’s fridge. Pulling out a bottle of white wine, I check the label. Pinot Gris? Not my favorite, but it’s not for me. After finding a clean wine glass, I pour a generous amount for Avery and join her back on the couch.

“Thank you?” she asks.

I plop down right beside her. “I’m all ears. Lay it on me.”

She takes a small sip and makes a face. “I’m more of a beer kind of girl.”

My kind of girl. I take the glass from her hand and set it on the coffee table.

“And I don’t know where to start.”

“How about with the fact that this Mason guy sounds like a little bitch.”

That earns me a little laugh. “He didn’t use to be. Up until about three weeks ago, he was actually a decent guy. I wanted to marry him.”

I reach out to pat her knee and then decide against it. Boundaries. This woman is hurting and the last thing she needs is to be led on. Even if Avery did live here, I sure as hell am not ready for another relationship at the moment. I still can’t see straight after Nora. I tried to date in every way possible after we broke up. I hooked up. I took women out to nice restaurants. When that led nowhere, I even dabbled in a couple of threesomes. One foursome. Everything felt chaotic. Things got so much better when I took a little break from it all. But I’d be lying if I said breaks weren’t lonely.

“What happened?” I ask.

“On my thirtieth birthday, he gave me a ring.” My eyes instinctually search for her left hand, but it’s hidden under the pillow. “Then, after seeing it on my finger, he panicked and told me there was no way he could commit to our unsatisfying sex life for the rest of his life.”

My jaw clenches. I have a growing urge to break her ex’s nose. “He said that to you?”

“More or less.”

“What a piece of—”

“I think I would’ve gotten through it. I mean, we were together for four years, so I know I needed time. We own a business together, so it’s not like we can completely sever ties. I think I was okay with eventually being amicable until—”

“The other night?” I ask.

She hugs her knees to her chest again. “He meant to text another woman but accidentally texted me. He let the cat out of the bag that he was screwing someone else…for a while, apparently.”

“Shit, Avery, I’m sorry.” Ah, screw it. I pat her knee tenderly and she smiles at me.

“Thanks.”

“Want me to send him a threatening text?” I ask and she giggles. “I’m completely serious,” I say with a laugh. “Am I bigger than he is?”

“Yes.” Her eyes immediately land on my crotch. She flushes and diverts her gaze when she notices me noticing and I can’t help but howl in laughter.

“I meant”—I gesture to my pecs—“muscles-wise.”

She smirks. “Also yes.”

Goddamn, she’s cute. And funny. She’s good at flirting and doesn’t even realize it. It’s so refreshing to talk to a woman without needing to be on guard. Shit, why not? Maybe we should just sleep together. Lennox is right. If I keep working out my feelings by logging miles on hard pavement, I really will break my knees. I remember Mrs. Mattley’s advice about connecting when I can. This feels like connecting. She’s hurting. I’m hurting. I have a feeling a night wrapped up in the sheets could be a good stress relief for both of us. The image of her full tits and thick, dark nipples fills my mind.

Oh, sue me. I can’t un-see them. Nor would I want to.

“You know what the shitty part is?” Avery asks, interrupting my thoughts about her topless. “It’s not like I was exactly satisfied myself, but I would’ve never considered cheating to be a solution. Have you ever been cheated on?”

I shrug. “Not exactly. But in a way. I can empathize, though.”

“How long have you been single?” she asks.

“Why do you assume I’m single?”

Avery clears her throat and turns toward me, her knee knocking against my thigh. “Because you just had dinner with me, and while I realize I’m not exactly a threat to another woman, no way your girlfriend would let you out of her sight on a Friday night. Not a man like you.”

Not a threat? What? “What kind of man am I?”

“Don’t make me say it out loud,” she mutters before she rises, leaving me behind on the couch. She grabs the quart of ice cream from the fridge and returns to me with two spoons. “You don’t exactly have a body that screams I love ice cream or anything, but I’m more than happy to share.” She gives me a sheepish smile before popping off the lid. She balances the container in her lap.

“You’re making a lot of assumptions about me, Avery,” I say as I take a spoon from her. I stab the cold dessert with the side of my spoon and scoop out a generous bite. “I don’t appreciate it.” I give her a knowing look before putting the spoon in my mouth.

“I’m sorry.” She shrivels in her seat.

I nudge her shoulder with mine, finding any excuse to touch her. “I’m just teasing you.”

I squeeze her knee again, and this time leave my hand there to see if she’ll take the bait. Maybe she knows that making me work for it is the best way to turn me on. I don’t even mind her raggedy shirt and faded cloth pajama shorts. I like her chirpy personality, even when she’s upset. How easy it is to talk to her. That she seems to say whatever is on her mind.

“I am indeed single, though.”

“I figured. You know, you made quite the impression on my friend Palmer.”

Huh? My hand is on her knee and I’m doing that thing where I rub little circles against her skin with my thumb. Yet she wants to talk about her friend? “The blonde who was in your car last week?”

“Yeah. She’s a spitfire. You’d like her. She’s more on your level.”

“My level?” I drag my hand an inch farther up her thigh. She shifts in her seat and I seriously can’t tell if she’s uncomfortable or intrigued. Maybe one more inch higher will give me answers?

“Yes. She’s a ten. You’re a ten. Actually, you’re a ten and a half.” She laughs.

“Well, thank you, but I don’t know her.” By now my hand is on the inside of her upper thigh, pressed against the carton of ice cream teetering in her lap as she squirms. My breathing slows into heavy, drawn-out inhales and exhales. I pull the ice cream off her lap and set it on the coffee table. I watch her eyes, purposely making my stare as intense and asking as possible. Maybe now I have her attention.

“She’ll be back to return my Jeep, eventually. I could introduce you two.”

I grumble in annoyance and grab a handful of her fleshy thigh. Goddamn, that feels good. I really like how she feels. “Avery, no offense, but I don’t give a fuck about your friend. I’m hitting on you. Am I not being clear enough?” I rub her thigh where I squeezed. “Or are you not interested?”

Every single cell in my body is on fire. If I’m playing this cool, it’s because I’m the best actress in the world. Clearly, I’m nailing performance under pressure, and by performance, I mean managing not to melt under Finn’s touch.

Am I interested? Yes. On a different planet. In a different world. Where you don’t look like you, or maybe I don’t look like me. I could come up with a million different excuses to dissuade him. I love the feel of his hand on my thigh and I’m more aroused right now than I’ve ever been, but we can’t happen. And I should probably be honest about why.

“I’m interested,” I say clearly. A satisfied smile spreads across his face. The kind of smile a man gets right before he knows he’s going to get laid. It’s filled with eagerness and relief and now I need to give this man a reality check. “But please stop touching me.”

He immediately complies. Ripping his hand away from my lap, he leans backward. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be. It was nice. You’re nice. This whole evening was really nice. I needed it,” I admit. “I had a really crappy day.”

“So you must not hook up. That’s okay.”

I furrow my brows. “Is it? Or is this night kind of over now?”

“Of course not,” he says with unconvincing enthusiasm. “I like talking to you. You don’t have to have sex with me to hang out. I have no plans tonight. Let’s watch a movie. Or play a board game,” he says as he watches my blank expression. “Or you can tell me more about your job. I made some tweaks to my website. I think I’m ready for that audit.”

I swallow the lump in my throat as we sit in silence for a moment. Oh, shit. Here we go. I’m about to embarrass the hell out of myself. I suck in a deep breath and hold it as long as I can until I exhale my confession.

“Finn, if I had ten minutes left alive, my dying wish would be for you to fuck me. Not have sex with me…fuck me. But my boyfriend just dumped me, whom I share a home and a business with. Don’t you get it?”

He’s watching my lips. “Get what?” His brain must’ve gone fuzzy after I told him I wanted him to fuck me. But he only wants me because I’m the easiest target that’s right in front of him.

“The man I’ve loved for four years all but told me that even though we’re great together in every other way, he couldn’t bear the idea of having sex with me for the rest of his life. I am shattered. I am humiliated. My ego isn’t wounded, it’s completely gone. I am never getting naked in front of another man again. I am never sharing my body with another man ever again. Especially not with a man who looks like he fucks like a porn star.”

I didn’t expect to be so dramatic. I didn’t expect the end of my rant to come through in breathy sniffles as tears stream down my face. I certainly didn’t expect Finn to half pull me into his lap and into an all-encompassing hug.

For fuck’s sake, he smells amazing.

I try to wiggle backward so my weight is on the couch and not his legs, but he doesn’t let me go. He just hugs me so tightly that I have no choice but to calm my hysteria and steady my breath.

“Shh, shh,” he says unnecessarily. I’ve already quieted down. “Is this your first major breakup?”

I nod into the crook of his neck.

“Yeah…this is how it feels…like death. Like the world stopped spinning and it’ll never pick up again. It sucks even worse when you finally get through it, think you’re invincible, and then it happens again.”

“How many times for you?” I ask as I pull my face away from the warm nook between his neck and shoulder.

“Three and counting. My most recent relationship was a fucking mess. It’s probably the reason I just made a move on you on Dex’s couch, instead of asking you out like a gentleman should. Avery, I’m working through my shit and I’m still not ready for anything serious. But I don’t want you to think that has anything to do with you. I happen to think you’re incredibly sexy.”

I scoff. “Let’s just be honest.”

“Okay?” he asks as his brows furrow with confusion.

“I know this is Mason’s fault. I know I deserve better. Yada yada.” I roll my eyes. “But it’s not like I can shrug off the insecurities. The pain and shame have seeped into every pore. I’m terrified for the rest of my life, every time I look in the mirror, I’m just going to hate what I see.”

He wipes the loose hairs away from my forehead and tucks them behind my ear. “Men need to be more careful with the women they love.” He tilts his head, his expression full of pity. “They have no idea the damage they can do.”

“Thank you for listening.” I push against his arms and then crawl off his lap. Standing to face Finn, I rest my hands on my hips. “And that completes tonight’s total humiliation session. I’m going to need a five-minute heads-up moving forward every time you plan to use the hot tub so I can hide somewhere. Deal?”

He laughs. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

I cover my eyes. “I’m going to do the raccoon thing where I pretend you can’t see me. If you could just see yourself out.” I point somewhere in the direction of the front door, but I’m not positive. I’ve really committed to the eyes closed bit I’m putting on.

“You need baby steps,” Finn says softly.

“What?” I drop my hands and watch his pointed expression.

“When I have clients who want to be a little more daring in the studio, but they’re so uncomfortable and embarrassed, we have to work our way up. We start with just flattering poses in jeans and a T-shirt. Then, we move on to shorts, maybe a tank top. When they’re ready, lingerie. Then we take off the bra…sometimes more. The more they force themselves to step out of their comfort zones, the more natural confidence begins to feel. But it usually happens in baby steps.”

“Your actual job is photographing naked women?”

He presses his lips in a flat line. His agitation is briefly apparent before it disappears. “I’m really good at helping women find their confidence.” Finn extends a hand to me. “Do you trust me?”

“Who? You? As in the stranger I’ve met all but three times who watched me undress through the window.”

He narrows his eyes at me.

“I’m kidding,” I add. “I trust you.” It’s the truth. Finn somehow toggles the line between making me feel unnervingly embarrassed and yet comfortable at the same time.

I take his hand and he leads me toward the staircase. I stop in my tracks and snatch back my hand. “Everything else aside, I’m actually on my period, Finn. Hence the need for more tampons. I’m not having sex with you tonight.” If nothing else I’ve said has scared him off, that certainly should do the trick.

He grabs my hand demandingly. “Calm down, we’re not having sex. Come on.” He tugs me up the stairs, ignoring my begrudging footsteps. “Are you staying in the master?”

“Yes.”

Finn knows his way around Dex’s home. They must be closer than I realized. “I don’t know how you sleep with that giant fish tank in your face.”

Dex’s bed and the sitting area in his master are divided by a partition, which is one giant fish tank. It’s one of the most magnificent things I’ve ever seen. “I find it comforting. It makes me feel like I’m not alone in the bedroom at night.”

“Dear God, woman, you really do need to get laid,” he mutters under his breath. I debate telling him I heard that, but I don’t think he was trying to be subtle about it.

We waltz right through Dex’s bedroom and into his enormous master closet. It’s so large it could easily be another bedroom. A sizeable nursery. That’s what I’d do with this room if I could ever afford a house like this. But as we weave past the counter in the center of the room, it’s obvious where Finn is taking me and I crumble inside. The ceiling-to-floor mirror in the back corner. It’s humongous. There are fluorescent lights surrounding the frame. It hides nothing. It’ll spit your insecurities right back in your face.

“Finn, no,” I protest.

“Hush,” he says, spinning around to face me. He drops my hand and holds five fingers in my face. “Five. Just give me five minutes. No arguing, no hesitating, no silly jokes. For five minutes, let me talk you through this.”

“Talk me through what?”

“Your first baby step.”

“To what?”

He sighs. “Good sex, Avery. You said you were never going to share your body with a man ever again. That’s no way to live. First step is to let a man see you naked and believe him when he tells you how beautiful you are.”

I freeze in place, the nerves prickling every centimeter of my skin. See. Me. Naked. Under this fluorescent lighting? Hell no. “That’s not a baby step, that’s a fucking leap to the moon, Finn.”

He snorts. “I promise you, you need this. Trust me. And if it makes you feel bad, I won’t bother you for the rest of the summer. I won’t go near the hot tub. We’ll never talk about it again. You’ll go back to California and all this will become a distant memory.”

I cringe when he mentions home. I forgot that my summer hideaway will eventually end. The part of me that believed Mason and I would be back together by fall is long gone. So what am I really going home to? If Palmer’s pilot gets picked up and this becomes a series, she’ll end up in New Mexico permanently. All that’s waiting for me at home is the constant reminder of the withering messy version of myself I now can’t stand. I can’t go back to that.

I won’t.

Finn’s right.

I need to reinvent myself and I have exactly one summer to do it.

“Five minutes.” My voice is small, so I blow out a breath and with a little more bravado say, “No hesitating.”

“Good.” There’s a little glint of excitement in his eyes. Grabbing me by the shoulders, Finn positions me directly in front of the mirror. He takes his place behind me, watching me through the mirror. I instinctively smooth my sloppy hair that’s so unruly it looks more like a messy bun than a ponytail. Jesus. What am I wearing? What the hell is on my shirt? Is that sauce from the pizza pockets from yesterday? How do I let myself exist like this? Finn, noticing my squirming, pulls my ponytail holder out. He runs his hands over my hair from my scalp down my back.

“You have the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen. It took me forever to figure out the color. It’s called seafoam green. Did you know that?”

“Only sometimes. In direct sunlight, they look—”

Reaching around, Finn presses his finger against my lips. “My bad, that was misleading,” Finn says. He’s purposely changed his tone. His cheery tenor is gone. He’s all but growling in my ear.

Finn’s talking to me like…

Stop. It’s ridiculous. There’s no way.

Like he’s hungry for me.

His breath against my neck stuns me. I freeze like a deer in the woods after the sound of a twig snapping breaks the eerie silence. He’s too close. The hairs on the back of my neck rise and I try to decide whether I should bolt or just succumb to my fate.

He continues, “I technically did ask a question, but here’s how the next five minutes are going to go. You’re not going to speak. I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to strip you down and point out all the things I love about your body. For five minutes, you are going to just enjoy a man, who you think fucks like a porn star, worshiping you. How’s that sound?”

I open my mouth, then clamp it shut. I don’t answer his question. I don’t say anything at all. I just nod.

“Okay, good, arms up,” Finn says as he cups my elbows and guides them upward. It’s taking every ounce of strength in me to keep myself steady enough to stand. The pangs of nerves flood my body, but I hold my breath to combat the trembling.

I force myself to follow his command as I fully extend my arms. He immediately reaches for the hem of my T-shirt.

“There you go,” he mutters. “Good girl.”