Camera Shy (Lessons in Love, #1)(84)

The floor is covered in black flower heads. It’s a sea of wrong-colored roses. It feels like walking right into a black-and-white photograph. The entire room is decorated in black, white, and cream. There’s a coolness…and edge…a certain moodiness. The four-poster bed is made up with white sheets and sprinkled with pearl-white rose petals. What looks like ink is spilled across the edge, dripping to the floor. I run my finger over the dark spill. It’s glue…or wax, whatever it is, it’s solid. Every detail, down to the string of pearls draped over the vanity mirror, is intricately placed.

“This is incredible, Finn. It’s tragic and haunting, but beautiful. It’s so…sexy.”

“All Lennox,” he says from behind me as I step farther into the room, trying not to squish the fake roses surrounding my feet.

“It reminds me of…” I roll my wrist in the air as I trail off and search my brain. “What are those black-and-white movies called?”

“Film noir.”

“Exactly. Film noir. I love this. This is going to do so well with clients. When are you going to start shooting in here?” I spin around to face him, a wide smile on my face. He returns a half smile, his expression sly and teasing.

“I have to adjust the lighting, but I’m ready to do a test session. How about after dinner you be my guinea pig?”

“No.”

“Tomorrow?” he offers.

“Not good either.”

He scrunches his face. “Well, when’s good for you?”

I return his quizzical stare. “When guinea pigs fly.” I shake off his ridiculous expression and hold my hand out. “Come on. Aren’t we going to be late to meet your dad?”

“Avery,” Finn scolds.

“Finn,” I say, just as sternly. “Let it go. It’s not happening. You’re not photographing me in here or anywhere. Especially not with my clothes off. End of discussion. Let’s go.”

He grabs my hand but doesn’t take my lead. Instead, he yanks me against his body. He wraps his strong arms around my waist and holds me in a bear’s grip. When he feels my body relax, he reaches up with one hand and traces the slope of my forehead, down the bridge of my nose, finally tracing my lips with his finger. “I know you’re a little camera-shy. I can help you with that.”

“No,” I mumble.

“I’m so good at my job, Avery. I take beautiful photos. I promise.”

“I’ve seen your work and I don’t doubt that for a second, Finn.”

“Then what’s the problem? You watched yourself in the mirror when you rode my tongue until you came. You’re not as shy as you’re pretending to be. You don’t even have to be fully nude if you don’t want to.”

“That’s different. No.”

“I just want you to see yourself the way I do.”

“Well, I don’t.” I am on the borderline of a tantrum. I feel so ridiculous, but Finn doesn’t understand. Whatever spell I have him under is emotional. A picture can’t convey the feelings Finn gets around me. A picture can’t describe the bonds of friendship we’ve built. All he’ll see in front of him is a woman who is probably twice the size of the rail-thin models he’s likely used to fucking. I’m a phase for him. An over-correction. A safeguard around his heart. I’ve never seen Nora, but how much do you want to bet she looks otherworldly gorgeous?

I just want to stay right where we are. I want to keep pretending for as long as we can. One summer. I was promised one freaking summer.

“What’s wrong?” Finn murmurs. “Haven’t I spent the past month teaching you how to love yourself? Remember what I told you? It’s confidence, Avery.”

I raise my shoulders and drop them. “I appreciate it. And I feel great being with you. But you don’t erase a lifetime of insecurities and doubt in a few weeks. This isn’t part of the deal. You’re supposed to show me how to fuck, not how to love.”

I wish I could take it back. I want to swallow the words back down and shove them into the depths of my stomach. I don’t mean a damn word, but I’m scared to tell him how I feel. There is no good answer. Even if he returns my feelings, the clock will immediately start ticking. We make sense in the bubble. But what happens when we step out? Finn isn’t going to feel this way about me forever.

His eyelids droop as he presses his lips into a firm line. “Okay, I hear you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. But it’s clear what we’re doing isn’t working. I wanted to help you, not make you feel even more insecure. So…” The flicker of a playful smile teases the corner of his lip. “Until you’re ready to do this”—he juts his thumb over his shoulder—“we should probably stop our lessons.”

“What?” Oh no, buddy. No, no. One whole summer. I’ve got six more weeks at least of enjoying your body.

“You heard me.” Now he’s wearing a full-blown, shit-eating grin. “Come on, Queen. We’re going to be late.”

He leaves me behind as he moves toward the door. Like a child robbed of her candy, I can’t help but pout. My hands find my hips and my toes nervously twitch in my high heels. “You’re seriously trying to cut me off from sex? You really think that’ll get you your way?”