“Can I come in? Explain at least?” I ask.
Jase’s brow is wrinkled in confusion, but he opens the door a few more inches and saunters away. It’s not exactly a warm welcome, but he’s not shutting me out just yet, either. I step through the door and pull in a steadying breath. I’ve never wanted to explain this before. When confronted with my past, I always flee. Always. But Jase deserves more. So as much as it’s going to suck to tell him this story, I know I have to.
His room is cold and any and all warmth between us is absent too. Jase turns to face me. “Did you know about the pictures?” he asks.
I swallow the grapefruit-sized lump that’s lodged itself painfully in my throat. That’s the thing – it’d be easier to say no, that Brent had tricked me, I didn’t know I was being photographed. But I did know. Brent thought it would be fun, sexy. And I would have done just about anything to hear him say he loved me. It turns out when you have abandonment issues, you’ll do just about anything to feel loved. I needed to feel loved, to be close to someone, and I loved it when Brent held me or touched me. Whether or not it had anything to do with my adoption, I didn’t know, but I craved that affection. During those moments of feeling wanted and desired, it dampened my sense of abandonment. I know these are probably all excuses, and certainly not something Jase is likely to understand. Nor does it erase the fact I kept it from him.
I hang my head, not wanting to see his eyes when I tell him this next part. “Yeah, I knew.” I didn’t say yes to the idea right away – he wore me down over a couple of weeks. And of course what followed wasn’t heartfelt; it wasn’t filled with love at all. It was an experience that left me broken, shattered, and humiliated. “When we broke up a couple weeks later, he shared the images with his friends, which were quickly passed around our school.” I could barely get out of bed those first few days. My dads thought I had the flu.
The disappointment in Jase’s eyes is so severe, so all encompassing, I stagger a step back, struggling to remain on my feet. It’s the look I hoped I never had to see it cross his face.
Some of the photos, Brent and I had taken together, a few I took of myself and texted to him while we were dating. “I didn’t know how to bring it up,” I say.
“You have a f**king sex tape, Avery!” He throws his hands up in the air. “These are things you mention.” He punches the wall. “Goddamn it!”
His fist leaves a dent in the drywall, and I stifle the urge to go to him and inspect his hand. I figured it was only a matter of time before Jase found out, but I never imagined he’d actually see it. Of course, Marcy probably pulled it up on her phone.
My stomach cramps and I think I might actually be sick.
“Do your dads know?” Jase’s voice is low and controlled, like he’s barely holding back his anger.
“Of course not. They’d shit a brick.”
“Yeah, imagine how I feel.”
I meet his eyes. “How do you feel?” Even if his next words crush me, I need to know.
“I was falling for you, Avery.”
All the oxygen leaves the room. “Was?”
“Was. Am. Fuck I don’t know.” His voice is raspy and weak, slashing away at my heart. His hands tear angrily through his hair, leaving it standing on end.
Something vital for my survival has been ripped from my body. Something I didn’t even know I had, and now can’t fathom living without.
I tuck my chin to my chest. “It wasn’t a sex tape.”
Brent and his best friend had created a slideshow of all the images both he and I had taken. The end product looped like a video, lasting several minutes.
“Close enough. There were parts of you that I’ve never even seen exposed for the whole world to appreciate.” The vacant quality of his voice, the hurt in his eyes is so real, I feel it in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m sorry…I’m sorry I ever took those pictures. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…”
“Me too. You’re not who I thought you were,” he says simply.
I hate the dejected tone of his voice. Seething anger, screaming, yelling would be better than this defeated tone.
“Don’t you think I wish I could take this back? I would if I could,” I whisper.
His eyes flick up to mine, devoid of all the warmth I used to feel from those beautiful baby blues. “I wish you could, too.” He turns his back and the tension in his shoulders tells me our conversation is done. And worse. We are done too.
Chapter 21
Jase
“Stacia, quit!” I chuckle, unable to stop myself, because it turns out after about ten beers, the tight feeling in my chest becomes numb. And my equally drunk ex-girlfriend is a distraction I can’t seem to turn down. She’s on the couch next to me, trying to tickle me. I forgot how grabby she gets after a few drinks.
Stacia removes her hands from under my shirt and bites her lip. The practiced look of seduction on her face is familiar and comforting. It would be so easy to fall back into things with her, even if it’s not what I really want. But my brain is tired of trying to work through what I had with Avery, and how I feel now. I wish I could un-see those images and go back to not knowing, but that’s not possible. At first I was pissed at Stacia for thrusting that girl’s phone in my face and showing me my innocent, sweet Avery being anything but sweet, or innocent. But after I got done cursing and punched the wall a couple of times, I knew Stacia wasn’t the one I was mad at.
The party around us has died down significantly, and there are just a few of us left – the guys that live here and their hookups. I know Stacia is waiting patiently tonight to see if she’ll have a shot with me, and honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t even decided yet. Which probably means my dick will decide for me later. And since he’s easily fooled by Stacia, I have a feeling I know what’ll happen.