“Actions speak louder than words, Ave.” I give her a look.

“I’ll polish your saber later. Deal?”

I chuckle. “I think that’s what you did in exchange for me letting you shower first.” I drop the bags on the floor by the last row of washing machines.

“No, pumpkin, that wasn’t for letting me shower first. That was for the forty dollars I borrowed from your wallet while you were in the shower.”

“Forty-dollar blow job? That’s a little steep considering I’m driving your fine ass to California. Can I ask what you’re doing with my forty dollars?”

Avery starts sorting clothes into several washing machines. She has domestic skills. Why does that surprise me? I keep my shock to myself.

“I’m going to pay you back. The blow job was just the interest.”

An older lady an aisle over gives us wide eyes.

“Still doesn’t answer my question.” I slip money into the slots.

“It’s a surprise.” She makes a separate pile with just her bras and panties.

I resist the urge to slide it onto the floor and roll around in it. Instead, I play to our audience of one. Bringing a pair of Avery’s satin and lace panties to my nose, I take a long, slow inhale.

There they go … the old lady’s eyes roll onto the floor as she gasps, clutching her invisible pearls.

“Jake!” Avery rips the pink panties from my grasp and shoots the lady a tight, apologetic smile.

I chuckle and lift my hand, giving the unsuspecting woman a no-hard-feelings wave. She hides behind her book to cover her face.

“You’re an animal.” Avery puts her undergarments into another washer on delicate cycle.

I add money to the machine. “The forty dollars. What’s the surprise?”

“Not telling. Let’s go.” She nods toward the door. “There’s a deli across the street. Let’s grab lunch.”

“Are you paying with my forty dollars?”

Avery turns, walking backward while giving me a flirty grin. The wind catches her hair and blows the now-shorter strands across her face—her makeup-less face. Her wrinkled dress hugs her curves. I know every pair of panties she brought with her is in that washing machine, along with her bras. She’s naked under that dress.

I stop just before stepping off the sidewalk, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of me.

Her smile fades. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Avery gives me a nervous smile then shakes her head, averting her gaze. “Whatever … not all blow jobs will involve a forty-dollar loan.”

I don’t react to her insecurity, no matter how much I hate it. Instead, I wait for her to really look at me. I wait for her to see the absolute truth in my words.

“Don’t.” Her head inches side to side.

“Why?”

Her wavering self-esteem fills her eyes with unshed tears. It’s tragic.