Camera Shy (Lessons in Love, #1)(53)

Undeserving.

Myself included.

But I’m a hell of a lot closer than Angelo.

Angelo’s laughing at me, enjoying my agitation. “Fine, how about a picture?” He pulls his phone from his pocket. “You both look so nice tonight. I’ll frame it and you can go on the celebrity wall.”

“No!” Avery practically shouts. Angelo and I both jump a little. “I’m sorry, I mean no, thank you. No to the picture, and most definitely no to my face on a wall. Please…just, no, thank you…”

I can feel the hot discomfort coming off her skin, so I reach across the table and ask for her hand. Obediently, she places her hand in mine and I squeeze the tips of her fingers. “Lo, go check on my eggrolls, man.”

“All right, all right. Oh, hey, while I have you, are you still looking to sell your truck? I might have scrambled up the cash. Can I take a look before you leave tonight before I make a final decision?”

I reluctantly pull my gaze away from Avery’s eyes. Her eye makeup accentuates the green perfectly. Natural, yet her lashes look a little darker. Those pretty eyes don’t need any help. They catch my attention all the time on their own.

“I didn’t drive it tonight. We took an Uber.”

“An Uber?” he squawks. He bows his head and shakes it from side to side. “Just sad. I would’ve brought you in a limo, hermosa.” He puckers his lips at Avery and she snickers. I truly can’t tell if she’s enjoying the attention. I certainly am not.

“Bye, Lo. I’d say it was nice seeing you, but honestly, I could take you or leave you right now.”

He laughs heartily as he retreats from the table. “Have a good dinner, you two. Finn, I’ll call you about the truck.”

I give Avery’s fingers one more quick squeeze before I release her hand and point to the dish between us. “These are best while they’re hot.”

She rubs her hands together in glee. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” She grabs her appetizer fork, stabs the smallest dumpling, and dunks it in the bowl of sweet and spicy sauce.

“By the way,” I ask her, twirling my own fork in my hand. “Did you not want your picture taken, or you didn’t want your picture taken with me?”

She screws up her face, taken aback. “Nothing to do with you. I just hate pictures. My face always looks like a balloon. I have no camera charisma. I smile so big my eyes look crooked. I’ve never once taken a good picture.”

“Your headshot on your website is nice.”

She rolls her eyes. “That was my high school senior picture, and I photoshopped the shit out of it.”

“High school?” I ask, incredulous. She simply nods in response. “You are a highly sought-after brand consultant who works with Fortune 500 companies and you haven’t had a legitimate picture taken since high school?”

“What’s your point, Finn? It’s clearly not inhibiting my business,” she mutters.

“My point is, I can help with that. I might know a guy who takes some damn good pictures.” I point to the middle of my chest. “I could take some really nice professional headshots for you. Let me help you.”

For a moment, I think she considers it. But she eventually shakes it off. “You already have your work cut out in helping me. Believe me.” She takes a small bite of the dumpling, chews, then swallows. She nudges the plate in my direction across the linen-covered tabletop, inviting me to join her. “These are the best things I’ve ever eaten in my life.” Avery moans in appreciation.

“What do you mean I have my work cut out for me?”

She points her fork at me. “One of us is about to have the time of their life in the bedroom tonight.” She dunks the other side of her dumpling back into the sauce. “And sorry to tell you, buddy, it’s not going to be you. I may be a quick learner, but I’m basically starting from ground zero. You’re going to have to take the lead and pull me across the finish line.”

I chuckle to myself. Does she really think that’s a problem? Little does Avery know, a woman like her letting me take the lead…?

There’s no bigger turn-on than that.





16


Avery





“Motherfucker.” Finn growls with frustration when he sees the limousine waiting for us in front of the restaurant. It’s in a no-parking zone, and the driver is holding a bottle of expensive-looking champagne. “That son of a bitch actually wants to fight,” Finn mutters under his breath.

I have to clutch my hands around my ribs I’m laughing so hard. Our waiter informed us that Angelo called us a ride and would send us home with a nice bottle of champagne. I don’t know when this cutesy pissing contest started between the two of them, but since I’m reaping the rewards, I’m rolling with it.

“He did say I deserved a limousine.”

“You do,” Finn grumbles and rolls his eyes. “Let’s go. Might as well make the most of it.”

I’m beyond titillated with the fancy ride, the champagne, and the tiramisu Finn’s carrying, which we were too full to eat at the fancy restaurant. This is better than my birthday dinner by far. A make up evening that was worth waiting for. I feel like a princess. I’m being treated like a prin—