Chapter Eleven
Eleven
Despite their grown-up, mature conversation on Saturday morning, Taylor was still irritated at herself for sleeping with Avery. She didn’t want things to be weird between them, damn it. They’d actually become good friends over the course of the past month, and she didn’t want to ruin that.
She should have thought of that before ending up in Avery’s bed on Friday night. When was she going to fucking grow up and stop making bad decisions?
No, that was Erica’s influence talking. Everything would be fine! She would keep things purely platonic on Tuesday night. No flirting, no glances at her cleavage, no accidentally touching her hair, or her shoulder, or her knee, or…none of that.
She decided they’d go to a queer social at a paint-your-own-pottery studio. Toddlers painted pottery; it was impossible to make it sexy. Simple, no stress, no innuendo, lots of other people, bright lights. They would go and each paint a mug or bowl or something. She would encourage Avery to chat with some cute women, and then congratulate her for a job well done on the way home. A nice way to ease back into teaching Avery how to flirt a few days after she’d flirted Taylor’s fucking pants off. Literally.
Monday afternoon, when she was at the winery in the middle of four different things, Avery texted her.
Avery
What should I wear tomorrow??
Right, she’d forgotten to do that. Okay, what was a good dress code and also a tiny clue? She hastily typed out a quick answer.
Taylor
Something you can get dirty in
Oh no, she’d already violated her no-innuendo rule. Why was her brain like this? Was innuendo such a natural part of her conversation that she did it without even thinking? Probably. She meant she wanted Avery to wear something to get dirty in, not be dirty in; would Avery understand that distinction?
Okay, fine. She did want Avery to wear something she could be dirty in. Obviously, she wanted that.
But she didn’t want Avery to think she wanted that. Because then Avery would think she wanted a repeat of Friday, and while she did very much want that, she also wanted no drama, and to stay friends with Avery and keep doing these surprisingly fun flirting lessons. She didn’t think she would get all of that and get to sleep with Avery again, too.
Avery
Lol ok
Okay. That response from Avery made her feel better.
Taylor
Here!
She texted Avery, as usual, when she got to Avery’s apartment on Tuesday night. When Avery got into the car, she just had to be casual, normal, not the way she’d been on Friday night.
The problem was, she couldn’t remember what “normal” was like between her and Avery. She remembered what it was like at the beginning, with Avery nervous and stressed out and herself amused. And she remembered what it was like at trivia, with them easy and comfortable, and, okay, fine, lightly flirting with each other. But was their fun, flirty interaction at trivia what “normal” was between the two of them? Or had trivia been a precursor to the midterm that ended in sex? Very extended foreplay, if you will. She wasn’t sure.
When did their relationship—their friendship—change from stilted and kind of awkward to relaxed and easy? Taylor couldn’t remember. She wanted to go back to the relaxed and easy version of their friendship, but was that possible without the flirting and the potential sex? It must be. She had that type of friendship with other people, and she’d never had sex with them!
She had to be friendly to Avery, but not too friendly. How did she do that?
What the fuck was she doing? She was completely overthinking this, and she never did that. She was far more likely to severely underthink something. For example, Friday night when she’d had sex with Avery. Maybe if she’d thought a little more about that, she wouldn’t be in this situation right now.
“Hey,” Avery said as she got into the car. “Where to?”
“Hey,” Taylor said. “Oh, we’re going to—” Shit, that had been a close call. She’d been so frazzled she’d almost told Avery where they were going. “Ha, you thought you’d get me that time, didn’t you?”
Avery grinned.
“I almost did. Nice save.”
Taylor shook her head at herself as she started the car.
“Did I wear the right clothes for tonight?” Avery asked her. She didn’t wait for an answer before she continued. “I’ve been trying to figure out where we could be going where I’d need to wear clothes I can get dirty in. First, I wondered if we were going to make wine somewhere, you know, do the foot-stomping thing, but it’s not harvest yet. I always roll my eyes at that, but also it looks fun. I could have worn what I wear to garden, but all of my gardening clothes literally have dirt on them, so I had to find something else. Anyway, I thought maybe cooking classes? We’ll see if I’m right.”
Avery was talking a lot more and faster than normal. She must be nervous about tonight, too. That made Taylor feel better.
“You’ll see,” was all Taylor said. Avery pouted that very cute fat-bottom-lipped pout of hers.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ve missed my chance to go upstairs to change, though, if I guessed wrong.”
Taylor glanced over at Avery’s outfit, but immediately she wished she hadn’t. Avery was wearing a thin gray V-neck T-shirt and jeans, which could be unremarkable, except Avery’s T-shirt was thin enough to be slightly see-through. When she was this close to Avery, and the sun shone down on her like this, Taylor could clearly tell that Avery was wearing a lacy black bra. Damn, that was so fucking sexy. What a fucking nightmare.
“You look fine,” Taylor said, and turned her eyes back to the road. She couldn’t look at Avery anymore.
But too late, she heard the harsh edge to her voice, one that she’d meant for herself, not for Avery. Avery must have heard it, too, because she didn’t say anything else. That should have been a relief to Taylor, that her nervous chatter had subsided, but the silence between the two of them felt awkward. And now she felt bad for snapping at Avery. It wasn’t Avery’s fault that they’d had sex a few days before; Taylor was the one who’d had the stupid fucking idea to give her a flirting midterm. You have to flirt with me —what the fuck was the matter with her? Talk about playing with fire and getting burned.
She had to pull herself together. If she was going to keep doing these flirting lessons with Avery, like she’d promised, she had to put on her fucking big-girl panties and deal. She was very attracted to Avery, she knew that, she’d known that since the beginning; now it was far more out in the open. Oh well, they would deal with this like adults.
Why was this such a problem for her? She’d hung out with plenty of people she’d slept with in the past, and it hadn’t been an issue like this.
Maybe because with Avery, unlike with all those other people, it didn’t feel like they were done. Yes, she’d told Avery they shouldn’t do it again, but she wanted to do it again. And again. That wasn’t Avery’s fault; it was hers.
She turned to glance at Avery again, who was staring straight ahead. She abruptly pulled over.
“Hey,” she said when she stopped the car.
“Hey,” Avery said. She hadn’t seen that stiff, unsmiling look from Avery in a long time. She didn’t like it.
“I’m sorry I was being weird,” Taylor said. “I guess I’m feeling kind of awkward, and I wish I wasn’t, and I snapped at you and I didn’t mean to.”
Avery’s face relaxed.
“Okay. It’s okay. Thanks for saying that. I’m feeling awkward, too. I just…I don’t regret what happened—”
“Me, either,” Taylor quickly replied.
“Good,” Avery said. “I wasn’t sure if…Anyway, I don’t want it to mess up our friendship, because I’ve had a lot of fun with the flirting lessons, and I know I kind of pushed you into still doing them, so if you don’t want to keep going, say the word. But I feel like—I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong—we’ve become friends through this, and I don’t want to lose that.”
“You’re not wrong,” Taylor said. “We have. And me neither.” She started the car again. “And no way we’re stopping the flirting lessons. You’re not going to get out of them that easily. I can’t have your skills regress, not after all this work we’ve done.”
Avery grinned at her.
“Okay, then. Let’s do this. Whatever it is.”
They drove on, in silence again, but this time the silence was more companionable. Relaxed, friendly, not tense and stressful. Taylor sighed an internal sigh of relief. She didn’t know why it had been so important to her to make sure things weren’t weird between her and Avery, and she wasn’t going to try to figure it out now, but she was just glad they could go have a normal, ridiculous time painting pottery tonight.
She pulled into a parking place about a block away and turned to Avery.
“I have one more question,” she said.
Avery’s eyebrows went up.
“Go on.”
Taylor bit her lip.
“Will you help me plan a baby shower?”
Avery burst out laughing.
“What? You’re kidding, right? Did you lose a bet?”
Taylor could feel the wide grin spread across her face.
“Actually, yes. You see, I kind of had this bet with Erica that I could make it to Labor Day without having sex with anyone. If I won, she had to give me a spa day. And if she won, I had to plan her baby shower. And. Well.”
Avery laughed louder.
“Oh my God. I was kidding, but you really did lose a bet. And of course I’ll help.”
That was a relief, what with Sloane ready to take over.
“Thank you. I know nothing about babies or baby showers; I’ll need all the help you can give me. Especially since I have to cohost it with Sloane, who I’m sure already has all sorts of plans, and I…don’t.”
Avery grinned.
“Luckily, you came to the right place. A few decisions to make, off the top of my head: Do we want to paint onesies or bibs? A balloon arch or a flower arch? Should the games be tasting baby food, celebrity baby names, or guess the birth date? Should the favors be custom M if I’m going to put it in my living room, I might want to paint it orange, or pink, or yellow…you know, something bright. But in my bedroom, I’d want it to be darker and moodier. What about you, have you done this before? What are you painting? Oh, a mug! What are you going to do to it?”
Avery was talking too much; she knew she was. Like in the car with Taylor. She had been nervous then, and she knew why, but she didn’t know why she was nervous now. Earlier it had been because she was seeing Taylor for the first time since they’d slept together. But now, she had no idea; she’d stopped getting nervous about flirting lessons a while ago.
Right, that’s why she was nervous. Because Taylor was right next to her. It had been one thing to flirt with Taylor watching before, but now it felt different.
She laughed at herself. It was just a weird fucking situation—she was sitting here, holding a piece of pottery, next to her friend whom she’d slept with a few days before, and said friend was there to help her try to get someone else into her bed? That was legitimately something she’d never come close to dealing with before.
At this point, she had the option to be stressed and feel weird about this, or just have fun with it. And she’d been stressed and felt weird for most of her life, so this time, she was just going to fucking have fun.
She’d just had sex with Taylor— Taylor —which gave her a huge ego boost, and her entire mission was to flirt with adorable Cat and paint pottery and drink some of this not-terrible white wine they’d just handed out? Excellent, she could do that. A month ago, she never would have even thought that. Maybe Cat wouldn’t be interested, or wouldn’t flirt back with her, or whatever—so what? She’d still had sex with Taylor a few days ago!
In the time she’d taken to have this slight mental breakdown and rebuild, Cat told her she hadn’t decided what colors to paint the mug yet, but she knew she was going to make the inside a different color from the outside.
“I follow all of these pottery people online, and watching them throw things and paint is so soothing, and one of them always paints the inside of her mugs and bowls a contrasting color, and it looks so cool, so I thought I’d try that.”
“What a great idea,” Avery said. “Maybe pink, to go with your hair?”
Cat brushed back her hair and smiled shyly.
“Oh, thanks. I was actually kind of regretting these pink streaks; they seemed so bright, and I wasn’t sure if they were really me, but I like that idea.”
Avery tucked her own hair behind her ear.
“Well, I only just met you, so I can’t tell you if they’re ‘you’ or not, but I love the pink streaks.”
Cat reached for the pot of pink paint.
“Thanks. It was a whole breakup-related hair thing, you know how it goes. I didn’t want to cut it, like I did last time.” She laughed and shook her head. “So, this time I got pink streaks, probably because I told my ex I was thinking about getting them and she told me she hated the color pink, and it was so infantilizing, so of course I got them to spite her. But then I regretted them. Classic story, I know.”
“Sounds familiar,” Avery said. “A while ago, I got some bookshelves, those white IKEA ones, and I wanted to paint them one color on the inside, in the back of the shelves, and then another color everywhere else. I’d seen the idea somewhere and I thought it would be cute. But my ex thought it was a stupid idea, that it would look bad and I’d be wasting my time. At the time, I said fine, never mind. But the week after I moved out, I painted those shelves.”
“And,” Cat asked, “how did they turn out?”
Avery sighed.
“I wish I could tell you that they turned out perfectly, but the first day I bought the wrong paint, which I realized when I—too late—googled ‘how to paint IKEA shelves.’ I had to go back and return that paint and buy a different kind. And then I taped the shelves wrong and had to retape after I’d already started painting. That was messy. But after a few other fits and starts—and many, many trips back and forth to the hardware store—I did it, and I actually love the way they look now. They were just what I pictured in my head.”
Cat smiled at her.
“It sounds like they did turn out perfectly, then.”
Avery stopped what she was doing and looked at Cat.
“You know what? You might be right about that.”
Cat picked up a paintbrush.
“Amazing how it works out sometimes like that, isn’t it? I’m sort of a recovering perfectionist, and I’m trying to get rid of those tendencies—at least for the things where it’s okay to learn and play and mess up, you know what I mean? I can understand that you felt like it’s not perfect because you had bumps in the road. But I’m trying to embrace that imperfection along the way is part of any good process.”
Avery picked up her glass of wine—which already had paint on the outside of it—and held it up to Cat.
“That’s probably the most profound statement ever uttered inside of Let’s Paint! Cheers.”
Cat blushed but reached for their own glass.
“Thanks, also cheers to my therapist, who I got that from. But hey, cheers to me for going to her.”
Avery took another sip of her wine, and then looked down at her paintbrush.
“I also want to paint my apartment walls. I’ve been planning on it for a while. My landlord gave me permission and everything, but…”
“It seems like a big commitment?” Cat asked. “I get it.”
As Avery and Cat sipped and painted and talked, Taylor chatted away with the woman next to her. Dark brown skin, short hair, bright red lipstick, very beautiful. Avery wondered—not for the first time—what Taylor’s most recent ex looked like.
Not that it mattered. She was just curious.
Cat mixed a tiny bit of pink with some white paint, and then added one more drop of pink.
“Um,” they said, staring down at the paint. “How long ago was your breakup?”
It was funny that Avery had to think about it now.
“In the spring, although it feels like it was a lifetime ago. I think I mentally disengaged with him long before I actually broke up with him, so it didn’t take me that long to move past it, you know? Like, obviously things about it still affect me, but I feel like that’s the case with every breakup. I’m so much happier without him that I’ve never questioned the breakup for a second. What about you?”
Cat sighed.
“Six weeks ago. I wish—” They broke off and then looked up at Avery.
“I probably shouldn’t say this to someone I’m attracted to and am chatting with at a queer mixer and all, but I wish it had been easy for me like it’s been for you.”
Did she just say she was attracted to Avery? When she said “someone I’m attracted to,” she meant Avery, didn’t she? She must; she wasn’t talking to anyone else right now.
Avery straightened herself up. Of course she was! People were attracted to her, even though it was hard for her to realize it. Taylor’s friend Callie! Taylor’s friend Liz! Taylor herself! And now Cat!
Cat, who was still talking about their breakup.
“The first few weeks I was…a mess, even though I knew it was the best decision for me. I’m doing a lot better now, which is why I’m here. I’ve been out a few times since the breakup—I mean, out on purpose, I work in wine, so sometimes work is going out, you know how it is.”
Avery nodded.
“I’m an event planner, I definitely do.”
Cat laughed.
“I bet you do. Anyway, I saw something about this on Instagram, and thought maybe painting pottery would be as soothing as watching people do it? At least, it seemed like a lower stress way to meet people. What about you, have you done this before?”
Avery shook her head.
“Nope, this was my friend Taylor’s idea. I’m excited to see what her mug ends up looking like. So far, it doesn’t seem like she’s making much progress.”
“I heard that,” Taylor said. “And I am, too, making progress. I’m coming up with a plan. My new friend Blake over here is assisting me.”
Avery leaned around Taylor to wave at Blake.
“Hi, Blake, I’m Avery, Taylor’s friend. And this is my new friend Cat.”
“Hi, Avery and Cat, nice to meet you,” Blake said. “And yes, Taylor was about to do something very boring to her mug until I intervened.”
“I’m trusting you, Blake,” Taylor said. “Don’t make me regret that.”
Blake just laughed and gave Taylor a look that Avery one hundred percent recognized. It was a “damn, I’d love to see you naked” face. Avery mostly recognized it because she was sure she’d felt it on her own face many times while talking to Taylor, especially last Friday night.
“She’s a ringer over here!” Taylor said, pointing at Blake. “An artist in our midst. Artists aren’t allowed to come to things like this! It’s like if Adele dropped in to a karaoke bar.”
Blake dipped her paintbrush in the white paint, still laughing.
“As much as I enjoy being compared to Adele, Taylor is exaggerating. I’m not a potter, or even a painter—I’m a photographer. It’s an art form, yes, but it’s a lot different than this.”
Taylor brushed that away.
“It’s a type of art form, you just said it. You have an eye for these things, I very much do not. I’m grateful you’re here; thanks for your help, I needed it.”
Avery talked herself down from the flash of jealousy that she felt as Taylor flirted with Blake and Blake flirted back. Avery was the one who had wanted to keep the flirting lessons going after they’d slept together, remember? She knew what Taylor was like, and she’d told her—and Beth—that it would be fine. And it was, mostly. This was just weird for her.
On the bright side, this was the ideal flirting lesson, to be able to watch Taylor work her magic at close range. Maybe Taylor was doing this for her benefit!
Avery laughed at that patently ridiculous idea and joined the conversation again.
The four of them talked for the next hour as they painted. Avery’s vase ended up being blue and white stripes with a blue interior. The stripes were slightly crooked, but Avery reminded herself that she was the only person who would notice. Taylor’s mug was a sort of ombré reddish brown, which Blake assured them would be beautiful after it was fired.
When they finished placing their pieces on the shelf to be fired, Cat stopped her on the way back to the table.
“Do you want to get a drink sometime? Or coffee, or something?”
Avery wanted to turn to grin at Taylor in triumph. People asked Taylor out almost every time they went out; this time someone asked her out.
“Yeah, that would be great,” she said instead. She tried to strike a balance in the tone of her voice between totally chill and incredibly enthusiastic but sounded robotic as a result. She smiled at Cat, hoping they hadn’t noticed that. “Why don’t I give you my number and we can figure out when and where?”
Cat pulled out their phone and typed in Avery’s number, and then Avery felt a buzz in her pocket.
“There, I texted you, now you have mine, too,” Cat said. “Um, well, see you soon, then.”
“Looking forward to it.”
She and Taylor fell into step on the way back to the car. Taylor turned to grin at her once they were a few doors away from Let’s Paint!
“And you were skeptical of the pottery painting mixer.”
“I was not!” Avery said. “I trusted you. I thought it wasn’t very you, that’s all.”
Taylor’s eyes were full of amusement.
“Mmm, likely story. Cat seemed pretty enamored of you.”
Avery rolled her eyes at Taylor.
“I could say the same about you and Blake. Are you going to see her again? What’s her story?”
Taylor shrugged.
“I don’t know. She says she’ll stop by Noble sometime to see me, so we’ll see if that happens.” She unlocked the car as they approached it and changed the subject. “I didn’t know that you painted those bookshelves at your place.”
“Oh yeah.” Avery got into the car. “It started a whole decorating thing for me. I’d always wanted to have a nicer living space, one that felt cozy and also a little fancy, you know, but at first I couldn’t afford anything—or at least, I thought I couldn’t—and Derek was so boring and never wanted to do anything. I had followed all of these decorating people on Instagram for a while, and when I was still with him, it made me just feel sad and resentful. But when I moved out, I realized I could do something about it, so I did.”
“But wait, you’re telling me that all the furniture and decorations in your apartment are things you’ve gotten since the breakup? That was only a few months ago!”
“Yeah.” It felt good that Taylor seemed so impressed. “I haunted garage sales and antique fairs and Facebook Marketplace for furniture and stuff, and I found a ton of good deals. I was slightly obsessed for a while there.”
Taylor smiled at that.
“And your place is so cute now. At least, what I remember of it.” She sent a sideways grin to Avery, who let herself grin back.
“Thank you, I appreciate that. I worked hard on it.”
“Have you really been thinking about painting it?” Taylor asked.
“Yeah, my landlord said she doesn’t care as long as I paint it white before I move out. She didn’t paint before I moved in; I was kind of in a rush to move in, so I told her I’d do it, and managed to negotiate being able to paint any color. But I’ve been frozen on which color, so I haven’t done anything. But lately…”
“You’ve been thinking what the hell?” Taylor asked.
Avery smiled and nodded.
“It’s silly—no wait, I’m going to stop saying that, let me start again. There’s this artist I follow on Instagram, and she always says, ‘It’s just paint.’ And I realized that’s true. It’s just paint! It’s not permanent. If I hate it, I can paint over it.”
“So why haven’t you done it yet?” Taylor asked.
Avery glared at her.
“I’m getting there, okay? I even bought a few testers of paint colors and some brushes to see what colors I like. I just haven’t…quite put it on the walls yet.”
Taylor let out a long, deep sigh.
“Do you need me to come over and stand there while you open those cans of paint and try them out on your walls? Say the word, and I’ll do it.”
Avery didn’t hesitate.
“How about right now?”
Taylor’s head turned with a jerk.
“Right now?”
“I’m all inspired after painting that pottery! But I know if I’m alone, I’ll chicken out.” Taylor didn’t think she was trying something, did she? No, she’d made it clear nothing further would happen between them. Friends helped their friends paint, no big deal. “But if you can’t tonight—”
Taylor laughed.
“No, you’re right, you will chicken out if you’re alone. Okay, let’s do it. Can we pick up some takeout on the way, though? The wine was good at that thing, but the snacks were subpar.”
“And there were hardly any of them! How about pizza?”