Page 23 of Camera Shy

He squints one eye at me. “All that stuff is necessary for a business to bring in money?”

I cinch my eyes closed and nod. “Definitely. Eighty percent of being profitable is being visible. Yes, having a good product or service is important, but it really doesn’t matter unless customers know you exist. Most businesses fail not because they aren’t competitive. It’s just because people don’t know about them.”

Finn points at me. “That’s exactly what I’m dealing with right now.” He takes another long swig of his beer before setting it on the deck behind him. “I’m having the hardest time finding clients.”

“What do you work in?”

He hesitates for a brief moment, then says with confidence, “Photography.”

“Ah, that’s a tricky one. Unless you have a niche, the market is saturated. Not to mention there are really no barriers to entry. Anyone can be a photographer, and the prestige of names like Ansel Adams is a thing of the past. Not to mention, video content is superior these days.”

He blinks at me in surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be discouraging. I just meant you’re probably a great photographer, but it’s a hard business to sustain.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He braces against the deck and hoists himself out of the tub. Sitting on the edge of the deck, his legs dangle two inches from my shoulder. “I’m hot. Are you hot? I need a break.”

I shrug as I turn my head. “I’m not too—” I choke on my spit when I realize I’m at eye level with his crotch. His trunks are soaked and are melded to the outline of his dick, which is in-your-face massive.

“Whoa, you okay?” He pats my shoulder, likely because he’s unable to reach my back pressed against the hot tub wall.

“Beer…wrong pipe…” I manage to say through sputtering, but I notice his eyes dart from me to the beer resting on the deck behind me, which I haven’t touched in at least a minute.

“What?”

“Okay, fine,” I mumble, then clear my throat one more time. “You’re…” I twist my wrist. “You know…kind of on display.”

His eyes fall to his lap. “Oh, sorry.” Finn immediately unties his trunks as he spreads his legs into a wide V. He slips his hand underneath his waistband, grabs his dick, and tucks it out of sight. How that’s possible, I don’t know. His penis could probably be spotted from outer space. I’d like to say I have more self-control, but no, I watched the entire fiasco with my mouth wide open. “Better?” he asks, completely unashamed.

“Mhmm,” I mumble. I grab my beer and chug just to have something to do.

“I guess we’re even now,” he says with a chuckle.

“Excuse me?”

Finn shrugs nonchalantly like we’re talking about what we had for lunch. “I saw your tits earlier.”

I gawk. Caught off guard, I do the most childish thing I can think of and throw a handful of water at his face. “You said you couldn’t see anything.”

Laughing, he holds up his hands in surrender as I cup my hand to prepare another water grenade. “I couldn’t in the hot tub, but you dropped your towel when you got into the living room. You must’ve forgotten about the windows in there.” He points to the left side of the deck where Dex’s living room is in clear sight through enormous clear glass panes. So clear in fact, I can see that Cherry has finally finished swimming around in a frenzy and is nowhere in sight.

Fuck me. I dropped my towel right in front of the damn fish tank. Of course he saw everything.

I was in such a hurry to get dressed, I threw on my bra, tank top, and underwear where I’d left them earlier on Dex’s navy sectional. When I decided to hot tub naked this evening, it wasn’t because I was trying to be sensual. It was because I didn’t bring a swimsuit. Because I don’t like getting into swimsuits. I hate the beach. I don’t like being photographed half naked unlike the millions of other Californians who go to the beach for selfie photo shoots. How nice it must be to have a body you don’t mind documented.

I’m not even really a hot tub kind of girl, but I got a massive headache from all the hysteric crying after I got off the phone with Mason. I couldn’t find any painkillers in Dex’s home and I’m stranded without my car. A relaxing hot soak seemed like an interim remedy for my throbbing head.

I scowl at Finn. “And you looked?”

His shoulders shake as he lets out a soundless laugh. “I didn’t look. It just happened right in front of my eyes. If it makes you feel better, the back of the couch blocked everything from the waist down.”

I bury my face in my hands, breathing in the strong chlorine aroma. “I’m so sorry.”

“What?”

I let out a defeated laugh or more like a grumble. Maybe something in-between. “Sorry you had to see that.” I assume the baby raccoon protective position. If I can’t see Finn, he can’t see me…

But I hear him.

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