Camera Shy (Lessons in Love Book 1)
Camera Shy: Chapter 19

“Sorry I didn’t call you back sooner, Aves. I’ve been so busy,” Palmer exaggerates on the phone, drawing out all the syllables in her response. “The network is really interested but hasn’t made a final decision, so the studio is just taking a chance and filming the first four episodes. It’s literally been go-go-go. I haven’t had a minute to myself.”

I exhale into the phone, hoping she can hear my agitation. I’m silent for a moment as I snuggle into Dex’s throw blanket, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand. Stalling, I watch Cherry swim her morning laps, back and forth. I’m pissed. That’s the truth. I called Palmer after Finn and I had sex a couple of nights ago. I wanted to talk to my best friend. I wanted her to help me process all the mixed emotions I was having. She didn’t answer. I texted Palmer that I needed her and she left me on read for almost three days.

I’d understand if she was truly that busy, but she hasn’t been too go-go-go to keep her entire social media following updated on her whereabouts and budding career. I already knew Palmer was filming more episodes…because of Instagram. Her thumbs must be too tired from name-dropping minor celebrities to push the call button and get back to her best friend of twenty years.

“How’s filming?”

“I mean…this show is…fine. It’s a good stepping stone. But I’m ready for bigger things, you know?”

“After a week?”

“This industry moves fast,” she chides. “People find fame overnight.”

“I wasn’t…” I release the air in my lungs, forcing my attitude out with it. “I want the best things in the world for you, friend. But I miss you. I’ve been calling…”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I know. I’m such a piece of shit. I’m just never alone. It’s hard to find time to talk. I really miss you too and I’m sorry I missed your call. I’ve been putting everything into this job, trying to network and get in good with the directors and some castmates, you know? Connections. I don’t know what to do if it doesn’t work out. Did I tell you my lease is up and the complex is raising rent again? I can’t afford it anymore. If this show doesn’t work out…I’m homeless.”

I tut my tongue. “Homeless? Isn’t that dramatic?”

“No, it’s accurate.”

“I’m your home, goof. You think I’d let you sleep on the street?”

She laughs into the phone. “You’re about to be homeless too. We all know you’re going to let Mason keep the apartment when summer’s over.”

I take a sip from my mug, annoyed at how well she knows me. It’s not a crime to be noncombative. Plus, why would I want to live in an apartment haunted with memories of my failed relationship? “We can get a place again. It’s been years since we’ve lived together.”

Palmer snorts into the phone. “What a way to ring in our thirties right?” The last time Palmer and I lived together was before I moved in with Mason. We said parting ways was bittersweet. Our official entry into real adulthood. For me, my first live-in boyfriend. For Palmer, it was the first time she lived alone, period. She had to have three jobs and loans from her parents to get by, but still, she managed. We thought it was the end of an era. Turns out it was just a break.

“Are we regressing?” I chuckle softly. Fuck. Are we…regressing?

“Well, if I’m going to regress, it’s going to be with you. I love you, Aves. And I’m so sorry I didn’t call sooner. You said you needed to talk. What’s up?”

My annoyance dissipates. Just like that, I’m hurtled back to high school when I used to confess my secret crushes to Palmer. The conversation would always be the same. I’d tell her who I liked. She’d insist she set me up because of course Palmer had all the boys at school wrapped around her pinky. I’d cry and plead that she leave it alone and let me crush in private…in peace. She’d never listen. Bold, brave Palmer, convinced I was the best thing since sliced bread, would chat me up to a guy, best intentions at heart…but it always ended up the same way. Me, rejected and humiliated, and Palmer getting asked out instead.

Eventually, I quit telling her who I liked.

But I suppose it’s safe now. Finn has probably clued into the fact that I like him. I’m doing my best to keep the degree to which I like him under control so my heart and ovaries don’t get carried away, but overall, our friendship is budding even faster than this fictitious romance I’ve created in my mind.

Finn texts me daily. Always first. Sometimes it’s dirty stuff. My sexting is still awkward, but we’re working on it. And sometimes Finn just texts me to send a funny GIF or to recommend something. I’m quickly learning all the things he likes—oat milk creamer, alkaline water only, and blending strawberries into vanilla yogurt. Not strawberry yogurt…vanilla yogurt mixed with ripe strawberry chunks. Apparently, there’s a major difference. Finn might be more of a foodie than I can handle because my idea of fancy is plating a Hot Pocket instead of eating it from the microwaveable pouch.

“Remember my new neighbor?”

“Hot guy with tats?” Palmer asks in a chirp.

“Sure. ‘Hot guy with tats’ is Finn Harvey. He’s a bit of a unicorn, Palmer. I’ve never met a guy so…everything.” I don’t know how else to describe it. Finn is manly, sexy, and commanding at the perfect moments. Yet, his personality is that of a golden retriever. He’s so sweet and approachable. He’s a character written for a fairy tale. I’m waiting for the twist in the story, his giant flaw that negates his absolute perfection in my mind…like finding out he’s a serial killer. That would literally be the only thing that could offset his charm.

“Are you…” Palmer trails off, lost for words. “So you like him?”

I sip my coffee, smiling to myself as I enjoy the last few seconds where my secret is still in the bag. “I had sex with him.”

“What?!” Palmer squalls. “Stop it! Why didn’t you call me?”

I have to remove the phone from my ear she’s shrieking so loud.

“I did…” I unsubtly clear my throat into the phone.

“Well, if you had led with that, I might’ve called you back sooner.”

Wow. Her lack of filter from her brain to her mouth…I swear. “Good to know you only want to talk when I’m entertaining.”

“Aves,” she groans, “come on. I mean, I would’ve called to make sure you are okay. I know you don’t take sex lightly. I can’t believe you rebounded with a guy like that. I mean, hell, he’s so fine. If I was there. I sure as hell would’ve taken my shot.”

My annoyance immediately bubbles back up. Back off. Back the fuck off. Uh-oh. Jealousy is not good. Jealousy is the enemy of casual sex. Finn is my teacher. My coach. My friend. He’s a whole lot of things that I shouldn’t be acting jealous over.

I overcompensate my casual reply, trying to calm my jittery heart. “Funny. I don’t think we’ve ever shared a guy. First time for everything, I suppose.”

“Oh, stop. I wouldn’t… Um, so how are you? How do you feel? Does Mason know?”

“Why would Mason know?” I set my coffee mug down on a coaster and tuck my knees to my chest before pulling the throw up to my chin. Why is it so cold in here? I remind myself to check the thermometers in the tanks. Dex’s air conditioning is always running now that the Vegas summer heat is picking up. I wonder if Cherry feels like she’s swimming in the artic. She seems a little slower lately.

“I don’t know, if I were you, I’d call him and shove your new boy toy right down his throat. It sends a clear message.”

“What message?”

“That you guys are over. Done. No going back. You’ve moved on.”

Palmer missed the whole Rumble chat fiasco, so there’s no need to defend how Mason didn’t cheat on me after all. But again, the more Palmer tells me what I have to do with my love life, the more I want to do the opposite—just to prove a point. Talk about regressing. There’s obviously still a rebellious teenager that lives inside me.

“Finn and I are friends. That’s it. There’s nothing to shove down Mason’s throat. I’m spending the summer trying to figure out how to love myself. Once I figure that out, I can decide how I feel about this breakup. I’ve seen couples come through worse, you know? I’ve also seen couples walk away for less. I don’t know what to think. The bottom line is Mason said he was unhappy and we broke up. He didn’t hit me, cheat on me, or lie to me… he was just unhappy. Should I hate him for telling the truth? Plus, he told me he may have just needed space. Maybe I needed space too. What if this is what we needed to wake ourselves up?”

“He said that? He actually said he wants to get back together?” She literally sounds disgusted. What the hell is this hypocrisy? Palmer’s had endless boyfriends who have cheated on her. Her relationships are usually short-lived, but she’s run back to them before. She only saves this fuck him, he doesn’t deserve you energy for me, apparently. Or maybe she wants Mason out of the way. I’m not sure.

“He said maybe this is a break. You know, my parents took a break for a while and got back together.”

“Right…shortly before their divorce. Remember how hard you took it? Do you honestly want to do that to your kids too?”

Jesus, Palmer. Her sharp mouth. “Regardless of how things pan out, Mason and I still have a business to run. We have a huge contract at stake. A career-making contract that we have to secure, together. Right now, I need support. Not demands.”

“I agree. When it comes to business, he should be supportive—”

“No. Palmer, from you. I need support from you. Don’t tell me what to do. Just listen.”

How long am I going to have to coach her on how to be a good friend? It’s been two decades. Don’t you know me by now? Can’t you understand what I need?

She mumbles something under her breath before she says, “Okay, fine. I support you. I’m listening.”

“Thank you.” The heavy silence settles between us, and as much as I want to dish about Finn and how he’s turning my world upside down, instead, I decide to keep my treasured secrets to myself this time. “I’m going to get my day started, but good luck on set. Break a leg.”

“Thanks. Oh, and, Aves?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I say the wrong thing sometimes, but you know that I, um…you’re my best friend…the only person who ever believed in me and stood by me and uh…I’m just sorry that I’m the weak link in this friendship. I really do love you in my way. I wish I were better…more like you.”

“Palmer,” I say amidst a heavy sigh.

“No, no, just let me own it. I know how I can be. Sometimes I don’t think I deserve you.”

“Doesn’t matter, best friend. You have me. I love you too.”

“Good.” She breathes out in relief. “Go have fun with your boy toy. I hope you went to the store and bought yourself something other than granny panties.”

She can’t see my glower, but she can sure as hell hear my sass. “How can I? You still have my car.”

“Shit.”

I chuckle as I hang up the phone. Hot mess Palmer. Yeah, she’s rough around the edges, but she’s my oldest friend. I know where each of those edges comes from.

I know her heart. And it’s a good heart.

A soft pounding coming from Dex’s front door pulls me from my nap. Who could that be? I check my phone lying on the coffee table in front of me in case Finn texted to tell me he was stopping by. There are no notifications. Just the time on the screen telling me I’ve been napping for one hour and it’s past three in the afternoon.

It’s been a few days since Finn and I have hung out and I’ll admit…I’ve been avoiding seeing him in person.

Because I’m sore.

It’s a good sore. Simply evidence of his massive proportions, but I don’t think I could’ve slept with him again without cringing, and the last thing I want to do is make him feel guilty and scare him off, so for the past few days, I’ve been pretending I’m buried in work. I’m not. Mason still hasn’t gotten back to me with the reports. I texted him yesterday and all he said was he was traveling and would check in when he gets back. This is why I handle the clients. Too bad the marketing director at Legacy Resorts who holds the key to the next level in my career apparently can’t handle a woman who’s smarter than he is. Ridiculous.

I make my way to the door, wishing I’d downloaded the security system app like Dex instructed me to. Had I done so, I could see who was at the door, tap a button, and politely tell them to please go away without leaving my spot on Dex’s comfy living room couch.

Opening the door, I see a stranger I certainly wasn’t expecting. She has striking features. Her angled features and high cheekbones are entrancing. Her straight-cut bangs, jet-black hair, and dark and heavy eye makeup are a stark contrast to the light jean shorts and flowy, floral top she’s wearing. It’s such a unique look, composed of contradictions. Is everyone in Las Vegas interesting and beautiful?

“Hello,” I say, nodding to the pink, polka-dot bakery box in her hands. “I’m sorry, wrong house. I didn’t order any deliveries.” I glance past her shoulder, but there’s no car. Finn accidentally got my groceries. Maybe I got his…baked goods?

“Hey, Avery,” she says, wiping one hand on the back of her shorts and then holding it out to me. “I’m Lennox, Finn’s cousin. Sorry if my hands are sticky.” I shake her hand anyway, my urge to be polite winning out over my concern as to why her hands are sticky. She must sense my hesitance because she elaborates as she holds up the pink box. “I brought you the best cinnamon rolls in Las Vegas as a welcome neighbor gift. But I had to sample one to make sure they were up to their usual par.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “How are they?”

She smiles, her ruby-red lips spreading across her entire face. “So good that you’re down to three.” She holds out the box. “Finn drove out to Scottsdale to see his mom today, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to be a creeper and come introduce myself. He’s been talking about you nonstop.”

I try to contain my smile and fail miserably. Whatever. He’s my friend. I’m allowed to like my friend and enjoy the fact that he’s talking about me.

“All good things, I hope?”

“Phenomenal things,” she says. “I had to come by and make sure you were real.”

I chortle under my breath. Flattery gets you everywhere, Finn. Like right back in front of the closet mirror doing whatever you want to me.

“Do you want to come in? I can make some coffee.” I point to the box in her hand. “You must be a mind reader because I haven’t had lunch yet and those smell divine.”

“I’d love to.”

I step aside, making room for her at the doorway. She gives my shoulder a little squeeze as she passes me and instantaneously, I feel at ease around this stranger. It’s the same way I felt immediately at ease around Finn. Maybe it’s a family trait. They share a certain charisma.

Lennox makes herself right at home in Dex’s house. She’s obviously been here a time or two as well because she knows where the little appetizer plates are in Dex’s massive kitchen. She pulls the dishware from the cabinet and plates two enormous cinnamon rolls that cover the entirety of each six-inch plate. My empty stomach howls with excitement.

After pressing the brew button, I join Lennox at the kitchen breakfast table—the only table I use in this house. Dex’s fancy dining table in his grand dining room is still staged and untouched. I have zero plans of eating at a table that could comfortably seat twelve. The round kitchen table is plenty of space to eat and work at.

“You’re really pretty,” Lennox says.

As a knee-jerk reaction, I look over my shoulder and then flush at my evasiveness. Confidence, Avery. That’s what we’re working on.

“Yes, I’m talking to you,” she adds with a chuckle.

“Sorry,” I say, burying my face in my hands. “I just…I was in a relationship for so long. No one says that to me anymore.”

She purses her lips. “Your boyfriend didn’t tell you you’re pretty?”

Come to think of it… “He always told me it was implied. He wouldn’t be with me if he didn’t think I was beautiful…then again, we’re no longer together, so…” I laugh awkwardly. Good grief. When was the last time I had normal social interactions with other women? Just Palmer. And that’s usually ducking and dodging her snarky commentary on my life.

Lennox pretends to gag. “That’s lazy.”

“You know what?” I say, raising my brows. “It is lazy. How hard is that? It’s barely a sentence. ‘You look pretty.’ Not that hard, right?” Mason should’ve said it more. I deserved more than implied.

“Not that hard at all,” Lennox parrots back. “Do you guys still talk?”

My shoulders tense and I immediately feel my defensiveness rising. “We own a business together. We still have to communicate.”

“That’s cool. In a perfect world, we’re all still amicable with our exes. It makes moving on so much easier. If you guys can own a business together, that’s really mature.” She peers at me, her big brown eyes narrowing just slightly. “Personally, I want to chop off my ex’s balls and feed them to him one by one.” She tugs the neckline of her shirt, exposing a name tattooed underneath her collarbone. “In hindsight, getting his name permanently marked on my body was a bad omen. Jinxed it.”

I cut a generous piece from my cinnamon roll. The side of my fork cuts through the fluffy dessert with ease. Covering my mouth as I chew, I say, “Are you getting it removed? And holy shit this is delicious.”

“Right? And no, no need. My artist has a whole plan to cover it by working it into a new design.” Lennox pats her shoulder. “As soon as I have a little cash, I’m copying Finn’s ship.”

“Oh, yeah…his tattoo is…” The sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. “Pretty cool. Is there a story behind it?”

“Not really. Finn’s always been into ships. Which is funny because he has his pilot license. I always figured he’d want to become a ship captain but—”

“Finn has a pilot license?”

“Just a private pilot certificate,” Lennox says with a shrug. “It’s not like he could apply to fly for Delta or anything. I’m not even sure if it’s still active. He hasn’t flown in years.”

“Wow. I would’ve never guessed. He wanted to be a pilot?”

Lennox twists her lips. “In another life. Has Finn told you about his dad?”

I cut another piece of my cinnamon roll, stalling. Finn mentioned Lennox to me. They are more than cousins. This is his best friend and they work together. I can speak freely, right? “He might’ve tossed around the word womanizer.”

Lennox guffaws. “Finn’s so polite when he likes a girl. What he meant to say is Griffin Harvey Junior is the shit stain of society and an affront to womankind. Sexually active eighteen-year-olds with daddy issues are his favorite type. It’s a miracle he’s only fathered three children. I truly suspect there are more. Dirty fucker apparently doesn’t know what a condom is.”

I blink at her with my jaw dropped. Okay, so she’s candid. Actually, I like it. There are no smoke and mirrors with Lennox. What you see is what you get.

“That must be embarrassing for Finn.”

She nods in agreement. “Finn and his mom are really close. Which makes it hard for him to love his dad.”

I wet my lips, tasting the remnants of the sweet icing on my tongue. “Should we be talking about this? You know…behind Finn’s back?”

She reaches over and pats my hand. “My loyalty is to Finn. I know what I can say and which secrets to keep. My job is to protect him. Speaking of which”—she points to my chest—“what’s your deal?”

“Ah,” I say with a forced laugh. “So these aren’t friendly, neighborly cinnamon rolls after all.”

“Indeed. Baked goods come at a cost.”

I smile. Calm down. I couldn’t hurt Finn if I tried. “How do you take your coffee?” I ask as I rise.

“More cream and sugar than coffee, please.”

I grab two cups, pouring a generous amount of half and half into Lennox’s cup. I pour her cream but bring the silver container of sugar to the table with a spoon. “I’m not good at guessing people’s sugar tolerances. And as for ‘my deal’ I’m happy to tell you whatever you’d like, but you know Finn and I aren’t dating, right?”

Lennox grabs the spoon before unlatching the lid of the sugar container. She spoons three heaping teaspoons of sugar crystals into her cup.

Yup, my kind of girl.

“He said you guys were hanging out.”

I suck the air in between my teeth, exaggerating the squeaking sound. “We hung out. Once.”

“Did you guys sleep together?” she asks with a mischievous smile. Her smile is contagious and I catch her playful mood.

I clear my throat. “I mean, we didn’t do much sleeping.”

She squeals with laughter and taps her feet against the floor rapidly, making the table shake. “I knew it. I should’ve known just by the way he was talking about you. Finn finally likes a good one. Thank the heavens.”

“Oh, oh,” I say, holding up my palm and waving my hand in the air. “No. Not like that. I just…we’re…” Okay, I’m going to need to figure out how to answer this question because someone else is bound to ask. “I just got dumped from a very long-term relationship about three weeks ago and I’m not quite sure how to do the whole dating game. Finn’s showing me the, uh…ropes so to speak. And in exchange, I’m going to use my expertise to help you guys build more business.”

I picture the cogs spinning in Lennox’s head. She keeps her quizzical expression on me as she takes a sip from her mug. “This was Finn’s idea?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, no. I asked him. More like, convinced him. Completely my idea. He’s innocent in all of this. And I know I must sound crazy, but I’m a hands-on learner. Sex isn’t something you can just learn from a textbook. Actually, scratch that—you can. I did. Which is probably why I’m so awkward at it. Finn is confident in the things I’m not, so I figured he could teach me what men want and how to have a decent sex life.”

Lennox tries to control her smile. “So you asked a man you barely knew to have sex with you for tips?”

“Pretty much.” I cover my eyes. “It’s not my usual style, but I’ve never been able to just talk to a guy so easily. And plus, sorry, I know he’s your cousin, but Finn is beyond hot.” I drop my hands and shrug innocently. “I saw an opportunity. I seized it. But I promise, I have nothing devious planned. We’re just friends helping each other out.”

Lennox turns her lips down and nods slowly. “Okay, let’s pretend this won’t end in a total disaster. What happens at the end of summer? This is the last question of my interrogation. I promise.”

I give her a small smile. I like that she’s protective of Finn. It makes me immediately like her. “I go home, move out of my apartment with my ex, and feel good about dating again. Hopefully, by then I have enough confidence to eventually attract a guy who doesn’t see a life with me as settling. Meanwhile, you and Finn are so busy with bookings you’ll be quietly cursing me for making you guys so busy and rich.” I raise my brows. “Sound fair?”

She tips her mug in my direction. “I could work with rich. I think I like you, Avery. I officially approve of this whole situation.” She nudges my plate toward me. “You may eat your snack in peace.”

Lennox joins me in laughter. When we catch our breath, I add, “Just so you know, I do consider Finn a friend. I have no expectations and there are no hearts at risk. We’re helping each other get…unstuck, I suppose.”

“I think we should be friends,” Lennox says, raising her brows. “I mean, you and Finn can’t just fuck all the time.”

I beg to differ. I’m no longer sore. I will live underneath that man…or on top of him…or on my knees…

“You’re living here all by yourself while Dex is away?”

I nod. “Well, my best friend was supposed to visit now and then, but she’s an actress and she booked a role last minute and hightailed it to New Mexico with my Jeep.”

Lennox widens her eyes in surprise. “You’re here alone with no car?”

I nod in reply.

“Damn, babe, that’s lame.”

“I’m okay,” I say. “Walmart and Target will deliver most anything and I go on quick walks in the morning before the heat becomes unbearable, so I get out of the house on occasion. And Finn took me to dinner the other night.”

Lennox rolls her eyes. “I’m liberating your imprisoned ass.” She chugs her coffee and at first, I’m impressed, but then I remember how much cream I put in there. I’m sure her drink is barely warm. “I’m headed to Town Square. Not that I can afford anything there, but my credit card is a little dusty. I’m going to go make some bad decisions in Sephora. Want to come?”

I gesture around my eyelids. “If you teach me how to do a smoky eye like yours, I’ll buy some makeup for you. I can’t figure out how to blend it properly. It comes out looking like I failed miserably when trying to cover up a black eye.”

Lennox chuckles. “Ah, it’s all about the blending brush. And I have a trick that involves scotch tape. Come on. I’ll show you what brushes to get. Let’s go.” She rises, her chair screeching against the wood floor.

“Um…” My shirt is stain-free at least, but it’s still frumpy and two sizes too big. It’s from a 5k charity event that I most definitely did not run. I volunteered to hand out little water bottles at the end of the race. “Do you want me to change?”

She squints one eye at me. “Um,” she mimics, “that’s a weird question. Do you want to change? I can wait.”

“Oh, I… I don’t know. Is Town Square fancy? I don’t want to embarrass you.” I glance down at my frayed blue jean shorts. I hate wearing shorts. My legs are not tan or toned. They belong in the security of compression yoga pants. But it’s so damn hot here. What choice do I have?

“Are you planning on participating in a flash mob while we’re out?”

“Definitely not.”

She pops her shoulders. “Then how the hell would you embarrass me?” Lennox throws her head back as she lets out a breathy laugh. “I’m going to pull my car around. Want to meet me out front in five? Oh, and that needs to go in the fridge,” she says, pointing to the pink box on the counter. “The icing has cream cheese in it.”

The front door closes with a click and I find myself for the first time in a long time, looking forward to a girls’ day out. I put my cinnamon rolls into the fridge as instructed and collect my purse and keys before passing by Cherry’s tank.

Sorry, girl, have a good day. I won’t be watching you all day like a sad, old spinster fish lady.

I apparently have plans.

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