Page 40 of Camera Shy

Mason and I were lights off, missionary, once a week at best. Toward the end, once a month. That was our legacy. I almost can’t blame him for wanting more. Tears begin to form. The pain I’ve been running from almost catches me. But what Mason doesn’t understand is the pain isn’t just from heartbreak, it’s from fear. My identity was so wrapped up in a man that the minute he didn’t want me anymore, I lost my identity.

I used to look in the mirror and see myself. Now, I look in the mirror and see what I’m not. At least, until last night…

Until Finn.

I don’t know if it was what he said in the mirror or how he said it, but I walked around topless most of the morning, feeling proud of my breasts. I grab my left tit, giving it a hardy squeeze. Mason, on the other end of the line, is silent, none the wiser that I’m fondling myself. These aren’t the breasts Mason passed on. They are the ones that made Finn smile and lick his lips. I wish it were as simple as hooking up with Finn for validation purposes. I think he’d sleep with me. Maybe it’d be for pity on his end, but I bet I’d still enjoy it.

The problem is I don’t want my identity wrapped up in any man. I don’t want to only like myself until Finn doesn’t want me either. I want my confidence back. I want to never ever again believe a man when he says I’m disappointing in the bedroom.

I want to feel safe to explore. I want to use a stupid app like Rumble and role-play. I want to experience all the things my so-called bland relationship deprived me of for four years.

But I need help…someone to show me how to be something I’m not. Finn. He’s the answer. I don’t want something as unattainable as his heart. I just need his body. I want Finn to teach me how to have great sex…

No. Something more extreme.

I want Finn to teach me how to fuck.

“Aves, maybe I was rash and I panicked. What if we just take the summer off to breathe and think about things? Maybe this isn’t a breakup…just a break. I know you’re furious with me right now, but hopefully, by the time Cancun rolls around, we can talk in person. About everything. Even the uncomfortable stuff.”

“What’s there to talk about? I don’t think I can ever trust you again,” I say, pressing my back against the wooden dining chair, wanting the pressure to hold me in place.

“I didn’t cheat on you. I will show you the app. I swear on my life—”

“I don’t care,” I say. He already pulled at the thread and unraveled us. The truth is? I don’t feel good about myself when I’m around him. And what’s more, I no longer think it’s all my fault.

I think of the shitty, artery-clogging takeout food we ate every night. Yes, it made me feel like garbage. But I’m not a great cook, nor did I have time to learn. I was too busy building Arrow’s client list and reputation. Never once did Mason offer to go to the grocery store with me and pick up healthier options. Never once did he suggest we cook at home together.

Never once did he cook for me. Finn’s steak was the first meal a man has prepared for me since I was in pigtails and my dad used to make me hamburger mac ’n’ cheese.

I let out a deep sigh. “Just send me the reports.” I clear my throat. “Let’s take it one step at a time. We need to see if we can work together. That’s the most important thing right now.” Otherwise, we have a business to divvy up.

“Okay,” he says, sounding slightly relieved. Did I just give us hope? Shit. “Good night, Avery. And hey, just so you know, I’m not sleeping around. I didn’t get over our breakup that easily. I’m not planning on having sex with anyone right now.”

Why was it so much easier to believe he was actually cheating on me? I trusted Mason blindly for four years. Why is it so hard to believe him right now?

“You should, Mason.”

“What?”

“You should. Have sex with someone new. I certainly plan to.”

I end the call before he can say another word.

11

Finn

There’s a nervous jolt in my chest as I push through the tension-filled gate separating my yard from Dex’s. I hear the buzz and bubble of the hot tub.

Avery’s already in the tub.

Her hair is pulled up in a sloppy bun, little strands of loose hair caressing her face. She’s makeup-free, and her cheeks are pink and flushed from the heat. Her pretty eyes are sparkling under the dim deck lights.

I hold up the six-pack of beer. “I guess you chose to keep me company tonight.”

She smiles and nods. “That I did. How was your run?”

“Grueling.” I set the six-pack down and pull off my shirt and lay it on the back of a patio chair. I feel her eyes on me, but she quickly diverts her gaze when I turn around. “You can look, Avery. I’m not shy.”

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