Naked Love(40)

My lips twist to the side while I inspect this insecure mess of a woman before me. “Maybe I’m just flirting with you.”

“That’s not flirting.”

“No? Then what do you call flirting?”

She shoves her hands into the hoodie’s pockets and shrugs. “Compliments. Flowers. Chocolates. Jewelry.”

“Sounds like ass kissing to get into your pants.”

Avery tips up her chin. “You could learn a few things from men who do that.”

I laugh. “Avery, Avery, Avery … I ruined your shirt, called you a bitch, and suggested you’re shit at sex. Yet, in the next breath I had two fingers shoved in your … vagina.” I wink.

Heat crawls up her neck. I’m not a jerk. Really, I’m not. But Avery is one messed-up chick, and I feel like putting her in her place isn’t a bad thing. She might not thank me now. In fact, I predict her hand making another shot for my face. But some day … she might thank me when she finds a guy who doesn’t treat her like a doormat, because she demands respect that can’t be bought with elaborate gifts and her self-esteem reaches deeper than fake eyelashes and designer clothes.

“Don’t touch me again. EVER!” She disappears into the tent.

“Good job, Ave. Stand the fuck up for yourself.”





CHAPTER TWELVE




Avery


My life is a game of limbo—how low can I go? By four in the morning, I slip into jogging shorts, a tank top, and my most sensible shoes. If Jake’s awake, listening to me get dressed, he doesn’t let on. I slip out of the tent and climb to higher ground in search of a decent cell phone signal.

Satisfied with two bars, I call my sister.

“It’s the middle of the night, Ave. What’s the emergency? And why have you been ignoring my messages?” Sydney’s groggy voice bleeds into my ear.

“My fucking phone won’t work half the time. No damn signal.”

“Whoa, sailor, what’s with the language?”

“Don’t start with me. I’m stuck in the Ozarks, and I fear I could be in Oklahoma or Texas by tonight. I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t. It’s unbearable.”

“Is Swarley okay?”

I jerk my head back and hold the phone out as if I can’t believe I’m talking to my sister—my flesh and blood. “Swarley? I’m calling you in the middle of the night confessing that I’m living under the most unbearable conditions, and you react with ‘Is Swarley okay?’ What the hell, Syd?”

“Sorry. It’s just that you can be …”

“What?”

“Well, a bit dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic. I have less than five dollars to my name; Anthony had all my accounts frozen. I’m physically, mentally, and emotionally a mess. And I’m roughing it with Satan and your dog that hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

I bite my lips together. She doesn’t know about my hand. I didn’t want to ruin her trip with my grievances, but … desperate times. “Before I left L.A., he chased a cat while I was walking him, and he ruined my hand. Major ligament damage. I may never work again.”

Too much? Maybe.

“Oh, Ave—”

“No. I don’t want you to feel bad or responsible. It was an unfortunate situation, but it’s put me and your beloved dog on the outs of sorts. I’m just … well, I’ve hit rock bottom. I thought I could make it to L.A. with Swarley and Satan, but I can’t.”

“Ave … Lautner has a bad stomach bug. I think he caught something toward the end of our trip. Otherwise, I’d see if he could meet you somewhere, bring Swarley home, and let you fly back to L.A. But I can’t leave the kids with him, and I don’t want to pack them up for another long trip. If it’s a true emergency, you should check with Dad and Deedy.”

“Deedy?” I say slowly. “You know about the Deedy?”

Sydney chuckles. “All of us video chatted a few days ago. She’s pretty great. I’m so happy for Dad. They’re going to make a trip to California after they get married. We should plan a surprise party or reception type thing for them when they come to visit.”

I glance around for the nearest tree to lean against so I don’t fall down, even if everything else in my world is crumbling. “My life is shit,” I say with a shaky voice as tears sting my eyes.

“Is it that Jake guy? Deedy told us he’s incredibly kind and trustworthy. She and Dad feel confident that you couldn’t be in better hands.”

“He’s a terrible person. I don’t know what Deedy sees in him. Unless …” I cover my mouth, swallowing a bit of bile.

“Unless what?”

“Oh … my … god …”

“Jeez what? I’d like to get back to sleep, Ave.”

“What if Deedy and Jake were …” I retch again. “Intimate.”

“You think Deedy was involved with the guy she suggested drive you back here?”

This horrible vision fills my head, replaying like a nightmare on a loop—Deedy naked with her head thrown back in ecstasy with Jake’s head between her spread legs doing to her what he did to me, then in the next frame it’s … my dad!