Page 21 of Without Judgment

Again, she was looking out the window and staying quiet.

“Spill it. Does a bikini wax put you in a bad mood or what?”

“Brazilian.”

“What?” I had no idea what she was saying.

“It’s a Brazilian wax, not bikini. You said you like details, so there you have it. And no, it doesn’t put me in a bad mood.”

Right. I’d told her I liked details. And she’d had a Brazilian wax. Fuck. “What does put you in a bad mood, then?”

She hesitated.

“You can tell me, you know.” And for some reason I truly wanted her to.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “My waxer does my ex-best friend, Janice, too. The one who slept with my ex-fiancé. Evidently, she was in there yesterday.”

What was with me needing to pull information from her? Didn’t most women talk and talk without prompting? And wasn’t Avery one of those “types”? At least, that’s what I’d gotten from her brother over the years: she liked to chat.

“I take it Janice said something about you to your waxer?”

“Yep. She’s been telling people the sex video wasn’t my first. That I liked to film with other guys, too.”

I didn’t hesitate in answering. “Of course she did. She’s the other woman who cheated with her best-friend’s fiancé. She’ll say whatever she can in order to look better to others. How better than to spread rumors and misdirect their judgment of her onto you?”

She sighed. “I think I need to move out of this town.”

“Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for a while. You could go to Dallas. Stay with your brother.”

“Maybe. But the last thing Trevor needs is his little sister in tow. He’s in a relationship, building on two sites, and plenty busy. He doesn’t need to feel like he has to take care of me, too.”

I was surprised she cared. Yet another way she wasn’t as self-absorbed as I’d assumed. “Have you met Emma?”

“Yes. She’s terrific. I actually met her before my brother did. She’s—”

She stopped in mid-sentence, brow furrowed.

“She’s what?”

“Everything I wish I was.”

“British?” I joked, but she didn’t crack a smile.

“No. Just stronger. Independent.”

Her last words were whispered and brought out a protective side I hadn’t ever experienced. I didn’t do needy people, especially women. Crying, fragile? Nope and nope. Yet she wasn’t crying.

Quickly, my opinion of her fragility shifted. Rather, it was as if she hadn’t yet tapped into her inner strength or yet discovered her voice.

I shouldn’t care. It was none of my business, and I should be making every excuse I could in order to keep my distance. Not look for reasons to spend more time with her.

“You hungry?”

She halfway shrugged. “I guess a little. Why?”

“Come on. I know a place.” It was a hole in the wall. The type that wouldn’t attract anyone who’d know her. I drove toward a nondescript strip mall on the opposite side of town from her father’s house.

If Avery was judging the place once we arrived, she certainly hid it well. In fact, she had nothing but smiles for the owner, who was quick to greet us. He gave us a small table in the narrow, no frills restaurant.

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