Page 101 of Camera Shy

My relationship with Mason was over long before I realized it was. I’m single. This is no crime. Life happens when it happens and I’d be stupid to refuse a gift from the universe like Finn. But there’s just one thing that has me worried and it’s not the geographic distance between us.

“Do women always hit on you so openly and aggressively?”

Finn blinks at me, his lips flattening into a firm line. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that question. “Uh, honestly…I’m used to getting attention. But I wasn’t looking at anyone tonight besides you—”

“No, no, of course not. Finn, we’re fine. I wasn’t accusing you of anything.” There’s nothing to accuse him of. We’re not together. “I’m just curious. Do you like the attention or does it get exhausting?”

He juts his chin toward me. “You tell me.”

I snort in response. “If and when I get endless waves of beautiful men throwing themselves at my feet, I’ll let you know if the attention becomes tiresome.”

Finn chuckles, but it falls flat and I’m slightly worried I hurt his feelings. Was I supposed to offer to move to be with him? I just… How? We’re not ready. I’m not ready. Plus, I feel like I’d need a full suit of body armor to survive the attacks I’d get for dating Finn. There’s nothing more vicious than a confident woman with her eyes fixed on a prize.

Finn finally breaks the lull by saying, “I like the attention from you. Sexy is great, but I also need genuine. You’re the first woman I’ve met who seems to be both.” He licks his lips and bends his fingers, beckoning me closer. “Come here.”

I show him my slyest smile as I slowly lean forward, eventually crawling onto his lap. I’m relieved to be on top of him. I was worried his sex strike was legitimate. “I knew you’d cave.” Both of our bodies jostle as he chuckles. “I like the attention from you too, Finn. I’ve been ignored for a really long time, and it feels so good to be seen. Thank you.”

My lips find him urgently. I suck in his bottom lip and run my fingers through his hair as I try to inch forward on his lap, just the idea of his erection kicking up the tingling sensation between my thighs. But Finn, his lips still intertwined with mine, grabs my hips and holds me in place.

“Slow down,” he murmurs into my mouth.

I try to wiggle forward again, but he holds me firmly in place at least two inches away from his dick. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Are you still upset about your dad?”

“Yes,” he says, “but that’s not why we’re not going to have sex. I thought I told you earlier.”

I flatten an irritated stare at him, but he isn’t dissuaded. He brushes my hair away from my shoulders and presses his lips against my collarbone. “I’ll compromise. Kisses are fine.” His breath feels cool against my damp skin.

“Seriously? You’re going to reject me when I’m wet, naked, and on top of you? Is that a smart move?” The edge in my voice isn’t from anger, it’s from agitation because all I can think about is sliding on top of him and riding until I’m thoroughly sated.

His stupid huffs of laughter at my nonintimidating threat only irritate me further. “I’m not rejecting you. I’m showing you I’m a man of my word. But you’re in control of this, baby. Promise me you’ll get in the studio…” He wraps his hand around my neck and guides my ear to his lips. His voice becomes low and grumbly. “Promise me, and I’ll fuck you so hard right now you won’t know what you’re swimming in, this tub or your cum. You know I can hit that spot that makes you explode.”

Damn, I love his dirty mouth. I’m weak when he talks to me like that. He warned me he’d play dirty. And it almost works as the aching urge between my thighs almost answers for me. Yes. Whatever you want. I’m tempted until the shrill cackle of a woman’s laughter pops the fantasy bubble in my mind.

Who? Ms. Piggy?

That’s adorable.

I didn’t mean to interrupt you and your ‘friend.’

The mean girl chatter is all I hear before I wiggle off of Finn’s lap and back to my side of the tub. “Fine. We won’t have sex.”

“All right,” he says, “no worries.” He stands in place, the water plunging off his body as he rises from the tub. Finn’s gargantuan dick is fully erect and right in line with my eyes. He makes a meal out of raising his arms above his head to stretch as if flexing his taut six-pack is simply natural. He reaches for a towel as he steps out of the tub. Leaning down, he plants a kiss on my cheek. “Just let me get dressed. We can”—he smirks—“talk…or whatever else you want to do tonight.”

Just take some damn pictures, Avery. It’s not that fucking hard.

But it’s always been my kryptonite. I’ve been camera-shy since the day I hit puberty and I started hating what I saw in pictures. Junior high is when I really noticed the stark difference between Palmer and me. My mom took a picture of us on the bus with our matching puffy paint T-shirts we made for the first day of school that read “Grown Girls,” because everyone knows at twelve years old, you’re totally equipped and ready to take on the world.

I was so excited for Mom to get that picture developed. But the day she brought it home, my whole world changed. I ignored our big smiles and the bright pink T-shirts we spent hours making for the first day of school. All I could see was how much thicker my arms and thighs were than Palmer’s. My chin was soft, and my cheeks were far fuller. I spent every waking minute with Palmer. She ate way more than I did. I actually enjoyed carrot sticks and cucumbers with ranch dip. Palmer’s version of healthy was baked Lays, fruit-flavored gummy bears, and Diet Coke. Yet we were growing so differently, and I seemingly had no control over it.

I noticed we were different. And I haven’t been able to stop noticing since that day.

Getting dressed became my main sense of contention through junior high, and then high school. Curvy wasn’t always cool. Rail thin was all the rage when I was at my most vulnerable in adolescence. Clothing stores like Abercrombie & Fitch and American Eagle made all their cutest clothes in size double-zero. So I learned to shop elsewhere. I learned to enjoy the beauty of comfort. I wasn’t about to play a game I knew I couldn’t win. I played to my strengths. I was smart and a hard worker and kept my head down in the arena of dating outside of a few awkward dalliances, until one day…

I met Mason.

He had a clear choice in the bar that day. The wild child beauty, Palmer. Or me.

And for the first time in my life, a man chose to pursue me. And not by default. Palmer was flirting pretty heavily that night. Mason didn’t seem to notice. He kept his eyes on me.

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