Through the Lens (Click Duet #1) (Bay Area Duet Series) Persephone Autumn (black authors fiction TXT) 📖

may look the same—with the exception of some added muscles and a semi-different hairstyle—but we are poles apart from who we once were. I can’t speak for Gavin, but our breakup broke me. The loss of him made me view relationships differently.

Shelly regards me a minute, looking in my eyes and trying to read the deeper meaning I avoid speaking aloud. “No doubt. How many days is he here?”

“Not sure,” I tell her. Because it is true. I have no idea how long he will stay. Part of me wants and doesn’t want to know when he leaves. “But the shoot ends in seven days. Each shoot is a different location in the area. There’s also a rest day scheduled. How long he’s here after… I’m not asking.”

She shovels a forkful of meat and rice into her mouth, nodding. When she finishes chewing, her eyes meet mine and she has her protective mask on. “Do you need me to hang around more? While you’re doing the shoot, that is. Kind of like reinforcement, in case he’s being an ass or you need a minute.”

My heart melts at her sentiment. I have no idea what I did to garner such an amazing friend, but I love Shelly hard. No one comes to my rescue as much as she does. She protects my heart as if it were her own. And she knows I would reciprocate in a heartbeat, if need be.

“Nah. I’ll be alright. I just need to keep my focus and not let my mind drift to the what ifs like it has before.” Too often, I have thought over every possible what if. And it does nothing but give me anxiety.

“Fine. But the first time he fucks shit up, I’m kicking his ass.”

Her face is dead serious, but all I respond with is a laugh. One that starts in my belly and rises quickly in my throat. The hearty laugh cathartic and exactly what I need after today. There is my Shelly. The best sidekick a friend could ask for.

“I know you will.” I reach over the table and pat her shoulder. “I know you will.”

Chapter Six

Gavin

People. Are. Everywhere. Surrounding and trapping me. Bodies rub against mine. Music blares so loud, hearing will be a challenge in the morning. Micah picked some bar and restaurant on North Indian Rocks Beach. I don’t remember the name, nor do I care. All that matters is being out of that hotel.

What I do care about is personal space. And these fucking people don’t seem to understand the concept. Claustrophobia has never come up as an issue, but in the last couple of days it has consumed me. I just like personal boundaries. And it seems as if everyone has forgotten what they are. Seems as if everyone is in on some massive joke to crowd me.

“You alright, man?” Micah asks when he notices me tense on my stool.

“Just a little crowded in here.”

“Sorry about that. You know how it is this time of year. Spring break seems to go on till the end of April. You want to head somewhere else?”

Dragging in a breath, I answer, “No. Crowds tend to freak me out more now. You think I’d be used to crowds with my job and people doing whatever they can to catch my attention. But nope. Still don’t want people in my perimeter.” I draw an imaginary bubble around my body for emphasis.

Micah slaps me on the back and adds a laugh for good measure. “Some things never change.” He pauses to take a swig from his beer. “How’ve you been, man? It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”

Guilt rushes through me. It had been close to six months since I last spoke with Micah. Time escaped me as life got busier. But I had known for a few months I was returning to the area. So why hadn’t I messaged or called him to let him know? The answer hits me like a bulldozer and I know exactly why I didn’t tell him.

Cora.

Although Micah’s connection to Cora is weak at best, his sister is best friends with her. So, if I had told Micah, he might have shared with his sister without thinking and so on. Things would have been much worse than they were today. And the potential for Cora backing out of the magazine shoot early on was higher. Although neither of us knew we would be working together, she would have put two and two together if Micah started talking.

“Yeah, I apologize. Things have been mad busy with work. Every time I thought to reach out to you, I was in the middle of something. By the time I was free, I’d forgotten. Time got away from me.” I give him a sheepish shrug.

“It’s all good. Just don’t do it again,” he teases.

For the next two hours, we sit on stools and drink beers and share chicken wings. We catch up on what has been happening outside our work lives. At all costs, we both do a damn fine job of avoiding the topic of Cora. And although it is still early, we both agree to leave. In the time since we have come in, the bar has gone from packed to overflowing and I am at my whit’s end.

Micah offers to drive me back to my hotel, rather than let me wait for an Uber. No doubt they are probably bombarded this time of year on the beach. On the short drive, we discuss getting together another few times before I leave. When he drops me at the hotel, we agree to go out night after tomorrow. And as Micah drives off, I vow to be a better friend to my best friend. Thousands of miles may divide our houses, but calls and texts and airplanes can solve those problems and I need to put in more effort.

The elevator ride is brief. Although I took a shower earlier, the sea of sweaty