Chapter 11
A VERY WAS TAPPING THROUGH Instagram Stories while waiting outside the salad place where she and Jonathan had agreed to meet when she came across Morgan’s Story. Her heart stopped. Morgan appeared to be spending the entire day hanging out with Blair.
First, the two of them got brunch at Via Carota, the most difficult place to snag a reservation, and Avery knew they were there because Morgan had geotagged the restaurant in a video of her and Blair cheering across the table with matching mulled wines.
Next, they wandered around the Whitney, which Morgan once again geotagged on pictures of a massive, sweeping gallery room and the view of buildings and spiky snow-covered trees from the rooftop.
Following their museum trip, they went to some boutique with a French name on the Upper West Side that Avery had never heard of nor could afford, also geotagged across pictures of them trying on flowy midi dresses and making kissy faces into the camera.
The geotags mocked Avery, making her loneliness not just apparent but also worldly and far-reaching, spanning neighborhoods and cultures and socioeconomic classes.
Avery clicked off her phone and chucked it into the backseat of her car.
She was fuming now. She hadn’t wanted Morgan to pick sides after senior year, but now she was reconsidering.
And even if Avery hadn’t asked her to, she should’ve just done it anyway!
Morgan had so many friends, so many better and more worthy people to ask to be bridesmaids.
She didn’t need to pick the person who betrayed Avery the most. Avery hadn’t been surprised by some of the people who took Ryan’s side after the breakup, but she’d been surprised by Blair and her actions.
Blair could have shown Avery some compassion for her mistake instead of spewing so much vitriol about it across campus.
At least when Morgan heard that Avery had cheated, Morgan was sympathetic, knew how badly Avery was hurting and was kind enough not to make it worse.
But Blair didn’t offer Avery any sympathy at all.
It wasn’t so much that Avery blamed Blair for thinking she cheated as much as she hated that Blair was so cruel and unrelenting about it.
Avery spotted Jonathan walking across the parking lot looking sharp in a dark navy suit. She exited her car. Using Jonathan to tap into a past wholesome version of herself was going to be difficult now that her present-day trash self needed a confidence boost.
They greeted each other and entered the caf é together, then ordered their salads and drinks before grabbing a corner booth tucked in the back, away from the rest of the lunch crowd.
Jonathan took off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white button-down.
Avery’s gaze lingered approvingly on his muscular forearms. He’d come a long way from the nonsexual thespian he’d been in high school.
“I like your suit,” she purred. Fuck it. She wasn’t sure if sex was on the table this afternoon, but she was now officially trying to put it there. She was going to turn on the seduction and charm, to make herself seem as unaffected by Blair and Morgan as she could.
Jonathan’s face flushed pink. Good start. “Why, thank you. I’ve gotta wear one every day.”
“Sucks that they make you come in on the weekends.”
“Yeah, but it’s okay. Excited to continue the family legacy.” Jonathan shoved a forkful of salad into his mouth. “My dad is thrilled that my brother and I are into law. Marissa couldn’t give less of a shit about it.”
“Is she still into the environment? I remember her activist group in high school. Everyone joked that you guys had the perfect combination of skills to end global warming.” Avery wrapped her lips over her straw and sucked hard, on purpose. Jonathan’s pupils dilated as he watched.
“I remember that,” he said, meeting Avery’s eye. “But my sister is actually brilliant. I was just good at pretending I was. You’re smart, too, Miss Six-AP-Classes-Junior-Year.”
Avery scoffed. “I was smart. Now I do audience development for Metropolitan. Not exactly on my way to becoming a CEO.”
“That’s cool, though! I love Metropolitan . I read it all the time. Love their Twitter presence. Or X now. Whatever it is.”
Avery smiled, trying to keep their conversation playful. “That’s all me.” She was getting kind of bored. She didn’t want to talk about work. She wanted to talk about fucking.
But Jonathan continued, as though they were just friends catching up.
“You kill it. Twitter’s the only social media I use, so I can’t judge your ability on anything else, unfortunately.
” He took a long, unsexy sip of his soda.
“Twitter’s fun. I debate with people on a burner account.
I love pissing people off. Whenever someone says something political, I say I feel the opposite. ”
Avery held back a groan. So he was one of those “devil’s advocates.” “Your stances on things change that much, huh?”
“Nah, I’m just a troll. In reality, I’m probably a centrist. There are two sides to everything, aren’t there? And both parties have equally terrible people anyway.”
Avery shoved her salad into her mouth. What she wanted to say was that sounded like a whole lot of both-sidesism bullshit, but she ignored the words coming out of Jonathan’s mouth and stared at his face instead. Jonathan was hot. Jonathan was stupid. Hot. Stupid. Stupid hot.
Avery folded her arms under her chest to accentuate her boobs.
She was glad this skin-tight baby tee was tucked in the back of her closet at her parents’ house.
Her tits looked incredible. She swallowed the last mouthful of her salad and put her fork down.
Jonathan was never going to be her date to any weddings, ever, but she couldn’t believe she was still trying to have sex with someone who for sure thought reverse racism was a thing. She was ready to get this over with.
“Well, I’m also a talented Instagrammer,” she said. “You should check us out there, too.”
Jonathan’s lips curved into a smile. “I’d be happy to check you out anywhere, Avery.”
His voice was husky and knowing. Avery narrowed her eyes, hoping he meant what she thought he did.
“Would you now?” she asked.
“If you’d let me, of course.” Jonathan scrunched his face in what appeared to be a moment of self-consciousness. “Sorry, was that presumptuous?”
“No, no, not at all.” Avery threw her crumpled napkin into her empty plastic bowl. Time to get out of there. “You mean, right now?”
Jonathan looked around. “I mean …” He shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. When else?”
Avery flicked her head in the direction of the parking lot, and Jonathan nodded in understanding.
Then she got up to throw her trash in the garbage by the front door, with Jonathan following right behind.
The silence between them was flammable as they walked side by side across the lot, Jonathan’s hand brushing against Avery’s hip and igniting the tension.
“This is me,” Jonathan said, pointing at a black BMW a couple yards ahead.
“If I cared about cars, I’d say this is a cool one,” Avery said.
Jonathan stopped walking, then pulled Avery in for a hug.
She kept her face buried in his chest, enveloped herself in the linen fragrance embedded into his shirt, trying to find something to enjoy about this experience.
When he released her, he kept his hands on her triceps, staring at her lips and licking his own with his tongue.
“Come here, you,” he said. And then he leaned down to kiss her. His kisses started soft and without tongue before morphing into something too sloppy and wet. But Avery didn’t care. He wanted her. They were going to have sex and she wasn’t going to hate herself anymore.
A few moments later, he pulled away, a suggestive grin playing on his lips. “You know, there’s a walking trail around the corner. The parking lot is almost always empty …”
“We could be the rebellious teens we never were,” Avery joked.
Jonathan laughed. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
They climbed inside his car, Jonathan in the driver’s seat and Avery in the passenger side.
A revoltingly masculine-scented Black Ice air freshener swung from the rear-view mirror.
As Jonathan drove out of the parking lot, Avery leaned over the armrest from her seat to nibble on his ear, eager to get this done.
He parked his car in the discreet lot next to the trail, unbuckled his seatbelt, and jumped into the back seat, pulling Avery with him.
The back seat was tight, but Avery leaned into the closeness, letting Jonathan trail kisses down her neck, across her shoulders, and onto her upper back.
He began to rotate her body so that he was behind her, but she tried to keep him in front of her by grabbing his head and kissing him.
“You taste amazing,” he breathed. “God, I’ve wanted to do this since high school …”
He tried to turn her around again by putting his hand on her back and bending her forward. Then her knee slipped off the backseat.
“Ow,” Avery whispered. She forced out a laugh. “Sorry, it’s tight back here.”
Jonathan put his hand on her back again. Avery’s heart galloped as he pressed himself against her. She could feel him getting harder and her palms getting sweatier. Forgetting where she was, she shot upright and banged her head against the low ceiling.
“Shit!” she shouted, rubbing her head.
Jonathan winced. “You okay?”
Avery massaged her head. Pain exploded from the tender spot on her skull. “I’m fine. I just … I just think it’s too tight back here for … for that …”
“I’ve done it before. Here.” Jonathan scooted Avery’s body backward and lifted her ass. She resisted.
“Stop, Jonathan. It’s too tight.”
He lifted her ass even higher. “Just hold on. I think we can do—”
She smacked him away, hard, and he drew back, a horrified expression flashing across his face at the red welt materializing on the side of his stomach.