Page 110 of Off Camera
“Is that where you met your ex, Peter?”
“Someone is nosy tonight.” Avery laughs and rests her chin on my shoulder. “Why so inquisitive, Duncan?”
“Dunno.” I shrug. “I know your orgasms like the back of my hand. Figured I should learn a little more about your personal life too.”
“If you insist. Peter was the Vice President of Client Services for the UFL team, and we started spending a lot of time together as we brainstormed ways to get fans in the door. Spending time together turned into dating, and I thought we were happy. While I was in my role, our team’s follower count quadrupled. I hate using the wordsuccessful, because it’s so trivial and subjective, but I was. That’s when Peter started to get frustrated. He was jealous my hard work was paying off, and he started trash-talking me to other people in the organization.”
“I bet he loved that you got to give the keynote speech in Vegas,” I draw out. “Fucking prick.”
Avery shrugs. “I don’t care what he thinks anymore.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Reid.” She kisses my cheek, and I look down at her. “Are you jealous?”
“No,” I say quickly, but it almost feels like a lie. “Okay, maybe I am, but it’s because you’re this incredible woman, Ave. Not everyone deserves to experience that incredibleness. Attention, wrong people. Remember?”
She’s quiet for a minute, and I wonder if I said the wrong thing.
I worry I overstepped a boundary, but then she sighs, and I wait to hear what she has to say.
“Remember how I told you the story about him was a tenth or twelfth date kind of conversation?” she asks, and I nod. “I feel like we’re at that point, don’t you?”
I swallow.
I wouldn’t consider fucking her six ways to Sunday adate, but the amount of time we’ve spent together goes well past twelve dates. It’s probably pushing more like fifteen, twenty, and it hits me how close we’ve gotten.
The parts of ourselves we’ve shared and the way we can talk without judgment. Me, about my dad. Her, about her past significant others and where she thinks she’s struggling in the workplace. There’s trust there, and I realize I’m scared to hear what she has to say, because I think I’m going to care a little too much.
More than I should.
More than I’m allowed.
“I shared a few details in Vegas, but I want you to know the whole story. Peter was always strategic. He never hit me. All his abuse was verbal. A backhanded compliment here, an insult there. A disgust for the things I did. One day, we got in an argument. I had a hard time setting personal and professional boundaries back then, so when I say I was constantly on my phone, I mean I wasconstantlyon my phone. He came home, saw me doing something on Instagram or TikTok, and he said some terrible things.”
I don’t know if I want to hear the rest. I already feel sick. I’m already clutching her tighter, as if I’m able to change the past and protect her, but it’s a part of Avery’s story.
I need to hear it.
“What kind of things?” I ask.
“He called me a whore. He said I was sleeping with the team. That no woman wouldactuallywant to work in the sports industry unless they wanted to get fucked by a bunch of football players,” she admits, a tremble in her voice. “That’s the real reason I didn’t tell you about my job the night at the bar. I didn’t know you, and I was afraid you’d say the exact same thing. And, after only spending a few minutes with you, I knew I’d be really disappointed if the nice guy I liked talking to felt the same way as the person who made me move away from home.”
“Oh, sweetheart.”
The endearment slips out, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She draws a shape on my bare chest, her fingers running through the hair before settling over my heart.
“I haven’t dated anyone since Peter. Casual hookups have been easier to manage than the messy side effects of diving into something serious.”
“How do you feel about something serious now?” I stupidly ask.
Avery props up on an elbow. Her hair hides her face, and I shift so I can look at her.
“It doesn’t seem nearly as scary as it did before,” she admits. “Meeting you has reminded me of how much good is left in the world. How much love there is to give and receive. Look at you and your friends. Look at me and Maven, and now Emmy, too. I’m happier than I was back then, and that’s a wonderful thing.”
Love.
What a silly fucking word.
