“You were upset when you thought he cheated,” I explain. “But how do you feel about the actual breakup? You ran away for the summer, and you’re living here alone, yet you’re acting so nonchalant. It’s a little bizarre.”
She turns and then digs through the bag of snacks. Pulling out a bag of salt and vinegar chips, she asks, “May I? These are my favorite.”
“You may… And you can also answer my question if you’d like.” I raise my brows at her.
“Fine,” she says, dropping the bag of chips and covering her face with both hands. I immediately regret my pushiness when I see her frustrated reaction. “I’m so fucking freaked out, Finn.”
“Well, that’s norm—”
“No!” She flicks the water in my direction and it hits my neck. “Not because we’re not together, but how relieved I am. I didn’t know. I literally didn’t know I was unhappy until Mason said it. And yes, my pride is hurt. Yes, my ego is wounded and of course, I’m embarrassed he blamed it on sex. But all that will fade in time. What freaks me out is, what if he never said it? What if he didn’t dump me? I absolutely would’ve married him. I would’ve been on my death bed never knowing I was unhappy. So, yes, I’m a little stunned right now because I’m running every single scenario in my mind and realizing how fucked-up it was. I thought I was being a good woman. Everything I did was to make him feel comfortable. He’s a slow-moving guy, so I learned to be patient. He’s impressed with a woman who works, so I built us a business from the ground up. He said he didn’t like materialistic, shallow women, so I didn’t spend my time and energy on that stuff. But here we are, four years later, and I don’t know who I am. I just know who Mason wanted me to be. And spoiler alert—being exactly what he said he wanted still wasn’t enough to keep him.”
I blink at her, shocked at her candidness. How is she talking to me like this? Is this real? Women are just vulnerable and honest without being manipulative and playing mind games? Is this a thing? Where the fuck have you been, Avery?
“I don’t know whether to say I’m sorry or I’m happy for you.”
She snorts. “Right? That’s exactly how I feel. Look, Finn, I know how I’m coming off, like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break—but that’s not what this is. I’m thirty years old. I’m not a child and I know it isn’t Mason’s responsibility to patch up my insecurities. But it is my job to figure out what I want and what I like. That’s hard for me. I’ve been a people pleaser since the day I was born. Ask my mom. She said even as an infant I wouldn’t cry if I was hungry or wet. I came out of the womb trying not to bother anybody.”
I laugh, making the water jostle. “I had colic. I came into this world guns blazing and ready to torture my poor mom with my constant screaming. Or so she says.”
Avery reaches up to tap my nose. “I don’t doubt it. You are unapologetic about being you. I love that. I like your confidence. I’m just hoping you rub off on me before summer is over so I don’t end up changing for the next guy I end up with, you know?”
Next guy? How come I hate when she says that? Aren’t I the next guy? “You wouldn’t have liked me much if you saw me with my ex. I was a different guy. Much like you, I didn’t realize how unhappy I was until I ended it for good.” I run my wet hand through my hair.
“Well,” Avery says, picking up the can of Red Bull, “cheers to fresh new chapters and to new friends.” She takes a sip and then taps the corner of my mouth with her finger. When I part my lips, she pours a little of the sweet liquid into my mouth.
“Friends, huh?” I ask after I swallow.
She shrugs. “Yeah. Friends.”
Except the way she touches me, smiles at me, and shares all her most precious thoughts and feelings doesn’t feel so friendly. Or maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. It certainly wasn’t this way with any of my exes. Did I have it backward all this time? Are you supposed to be friends first, then fall in love? Maybe you should get to know the person before you’ve fallen for them. Maybe knowing the good and bad up front would prevent all the jarring realizations. And if friends first is the right path, where does fucking fall into place? Are Avery and I behind the curve or ahead of it?
Before I can overthink this anymore, Avery sets the can down and unties the bow behind her neck.
“So you said you’re feeling up for lessons tonight?”
I force myself to be patient instead of yanking her suit down and exposing her full tits. “I am.”
“What should we study?” Her smile is so cute and mischievous, I just want to suck on her lips. She makes me feel so light, and full at the same time. Flirty and serious. Avery is every single piece of the pie.
“How’s your blow job?” I ask.
“On a scale of one to ten?” she asks, grimacing.
“Sure.”
She inhales, her chest rising high. “Solid four.” She blows out her breath. “And a half. Four and a half.”
I can’t help but chuckle at her. “Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. I only have one move and I feel like it’s boring. And sorry to overshare, but it’d take Mason forever. I think we both ended up hating head.”
I hate this guy. So fucking much. “Well, sweetheart, I can guarantee you, I’m a melt-in-your-mouth kind of guy. I won’t be bored.” I tuck a wet piece of her hair behind her ear.
She clamps her eyes shut. “Would you be willing to talk me through it?” Avery laughs at herself a little. “Most awkward question I’ve ever asked in my life,” she mumbles under her breath.
“It’s not awkward. I’m more than happy to tell you what I like.” Using my teeth, I tug on her earlobe before whispering in her ear. “But do you remember what I already taught you about giving head?” The way I feel her shudder with anticipation sends me straight into the zone. My cock presses uncomfortably against my swim trunks.
She nods. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“If a man doesn’t give…” She trails off, and I raise my brows at her, so she continues, “He doesn’t get.”
“Good girl. Such a good student.” I pat the deck, indicating she should hop up. She sits on the edge of the deck, her feet still dipping into the tub. Moving between her legs, I place my face right in the center of her chest so that when I peel her swimsuit down, her round tits drop right onto my face. I allow myself to get lost for a moment, nipping and teasing her plump nipples, encouraging her to lean back into her hands and arch her back.
I’ll never get my fill of her tits. I could breathe them in for hours, so I have to force myself to keep moving south. She bridges her hips so I can pull her swimsuit past her full hips and fleshy thighs. God, I love her legs. I love how they look and how they feel, and I know for damn sure what she sees in the mirror and what I see in front of me must be two different women. Avery has nothing to be ashamed of and everything to flaunt. All my favorite parts of a woman are plentiful on her. There’s more to touch and squeeze, and I wish she knew how her body drives me wild.