Chapter 19
A VERY PULLED HER THROW blanket closer to her neck.
The sky on Saturday afternoon was dark, a thunderstorm looming overhead while an episode of Vanderpump Rules played on the television in her living room.
Pete was snuggled up beside her on the couch.
She hoped hanging out with him would help her feel better about screwing up the Bella Blue order.
It had been a long time since she’d had a go-to person to call when she needed some company, though she kept her reason for “needing company” vague.
All Pete knew was that the order was delayed, not the exact reason why.
“I’m sure you’ll work it out,” Pete had said when she’d told him what happened on the phone that morning. “You’re busting your ass for this wedding. This is only a minor setback. Don’t worry.”
All Avery had wanted to do was berate herself. But Pete was confident in her ability to fix this. She wished she could believe in herself the same way he did.
“Thanks for saying that,” she said.
“Of course! I’ll come by in a couple hours. We’ll do something to get your mind off of it.”
Now Avery rested her head on Pete’s shoulder.
She knew she usually had Morgan to encourage her in moments like these, but besides the fact that Morgan wasn’t Avery’s biggest fan at the moment, Morgan had always had Charlie.
Avery wasn’t Morgan’s number one priority the way Morgan was Avery’s.
Morgan would deny that if Avery ever said it to her face, but the fact of the matter was, things change when your best friend gets a boyfriend, let alone engaged .
You can’t have two number-one priorities.
It’s just math. Suddenly he becomes her default plus-one to parties and family events, becomes the first person she calls when she needs to vent.
It’s not that you as her best friend actively get demoted; it’s more that he just takes your spot.
But Avery had her own person now. Someone she kept updated about the minutiae of her day, like her failed attempts at cooking chicken last weekend—she ended up burning it out of fear of undercooking it—and the squirrel eating a slice of pepperoni pizza that she saw on her walk to Duane Reade.
Someone who even comforted her about the bigger stuff, like what was happening today.
And it was better than she thought would be possible for her ever again.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.
Pete squeezed her shoulder. “Me too.” He fixed his attention on the television. “Damn, Raquel is such a good liar.”
Avery laughed. “You’re like those guys who pretend they hate ‘girly’ shows and end up becoming obsessed.”
Pete didn’t seem the least bit fazed. “No shame over here. I’m comfortable enough in my masculinity to admit it. This show is great.”
“It’s hot that you think that.”
In the kitchen, the microwave dinged. Avery padded over barefoot and pulled out a freshly popped bag of popcorn.
Yellow steam rose from the bag, filling the apartment with the scent of butter and salt.
She poured the contents into a plastic bowl and sat back down on the couch next to Pete.
He slapped her ass as she lowered herself into the seat cushion.
“You know what else is hot?” he asked. “You, today.”
“Only today?” Avery teased. Her hair was in a loose bun on top of her head with strands framing her face, and she wore no bra and a thin pink tank top through which her nipples were visible.
Pete played with the strap of her shirt, let it fall and dangle against her skin. “You know what I mean.” He kissed her bare shoulder.
“Stop!” Avery whispered, hoping he’d actually keep going—forever. “We need to watch the show!”
Pete paused the TV and dove his face into Avery’s chest. “We’ll watch later.”
She arched her back into him and groaned as he slipped off her tank top.
Warmth rushed between her legs. Her desire for Pete bloomed not from a frantic need for validation that she’d gotten used to with guys, but from a genuine longing for Pete and Pete alone.
She welcomed the change, this feeling that she was allowing her happiness to depend on him so much.
It was more vulnerable than she’d been in a long time, with anyone.
But Pete treated her like a precious jewel, and continued to do so even as he found out more and more about who she really was.
Where she saw a rock, he saw a diamond. It felt like a miracle.
“Should we go in my room?” she breathed.
Pete trailed kisses up her neck. “No. I need you now.”
He ripped off his jeans while she slid off her leggings and pressed his naked body between her thighs. He moved her underwear to the side and slipped inside her easily, then pumped for a few delicious seconds before tapping her hip.
“Flip onto your stomach,” he whispered.
Avery froze. She closed her eyes.
Noah’s face burned behind her eyelids.
She threw the blanket over their bodies and pointed to her roommate’s closed bedroom door. “Celeste is right there,” she murmured. “She’ll get so pissed if she walks out. Just keep it simple with missionary. So we can stay covered.”
“I’ll be quick, trust me, especially from behind. I’m gonna blow in ten seconds.”
Pete threw the blanket back onto the floor and tapped Avery’s side again. Her chest tightened. But she trusted him, didn’t she? This was what it meant to be vulnerable, wasn’t it? To do something that you were afraid of and hope for the best. To hope at all.
She turned over and held her breath. Pete leaned forward, pressing down on her back, and started to pump inside of her.
She froze again. She couldn’t do it, was catapulted right back to senior year, in that dark bedroom, under the whirr of that ceiling fan …
“Stop,” she mumbled.
But Pete kept going, pressing even harder on her back, like he didn’t hear her.
She winced and tried again. “Pete, stop.”
“I’m so close,” Pete moaned, his grip strong on Avery’s skin. He still didn’t hear her.
Or was he ignoring her like Noah had?
Nausea churned in her stomach. She couldn’t speak any louder. She felt paralyzed, exactly like she’d felt that night after putting up a fight. “Pete, please stop for a—”
Pete yanked out of her with one swift motion and finished on her back, covering her in hot viscous liquid that trickled over her ribs and dripped down the side of her body.
She stared at it. Bile crept up her esophagus, built pressure in her chest and her throat.
Then she sprinted to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet.
Pete hurried after her. He knelt on the white tile floor next to her shaking body. “What the hell?” His eyes darted all over. “Avery! Are you okay?”
Avery lay her damp forehead against the porcelain, breathing in rapid bursts. Pete put his hand on her shoulder and tried to rub her back, but she shoved him away as hard as she could. He toppled backward onto the tile, landing with a thud .
“I told you to stop!” Avery shouted, hoarse from retching.
Pete searched her face, frantic and confused. “What? What are you talking about?”
“I told you to stop! And you didn’t!” Avery tried to slow her breathing, but it wasn’t letting up. She was still hyperventilating. She still felt Noah pressing down on her back, heard the ceiling fan whirring above her …
“Avery, I seriously do not remember you saying that. I swear. I swear. ”
“Well, I did!”
All the color drained from Pete’s face, turning him a ghastly gray. “I swear I would have stopped if I heard you. I’m so sorry.”
Avery’s mouth tasted like acid, like bad vanilla yogurt.
She lifted herself off the floor and stepped over Pete’s legs, careful not to touch him.
She stood in front of the sink, turned on the faucet, and cupped her hands under the water, then slurped some into her mouth and rinsed.
Pete stood up next to her and watched her slowly and methodically clean herself off.
Then he put his hand on her back and she leapt backward, recoiling from his touch.
“I want you to go.” Avery pointed to the door, though what she really wanted was for him to hold her and never let go. To tell her they were going to overcome this, that everything was going to be all right.
Pete blinked at her. “Are you serious?”
“I’m dead serious. Go.” Stay, she thought.
Pete tried to touch Avery’s back again, but she flinched and wrapped her arms around her naked body, feeling too exposed. She dug her nails into her skin, leaving deeply etched half-moon marks. Who was she kidding? Nothing was going to be all right. She was so fucked up, beyond repair.
“Can we please talk about it?” Pete asked desperately. “What happened?”
Avery dug her nails even harder into her skin, as if she could claw the shame from her flesh. “I don’t want to talk about it. I want you to go.”
“I’m so confused. Please talk to me.” His voice was gentle, but Avery could barely look at him.
“Pete, I swear to God. Get out of my apartment.”
“But can’t we—”
“GET OUT!”
Pete’s eyes became glassy. He said nothing else. Only wordlessly gathered his things and left.