Page 27 of Camera Shy

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?”

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