Page 27 of Memories By the Shore
“It’s great to meet you as well.” I shake his hand.
“Avery, my sweet, you are in for a treat tonight because I make the best black bean burgers.” Duke clasps his hands together. “And my son decided to join us tonight, so I’m sure he can keep you company while we cook.”
No wonder Helen likes Duke. His energy is infectious. “Fabulous.”
A few short hours later, Jasper and I are sitting in the sand under a tree, watching the sunset for the night. “Dinner was a lot better than I expected it to be.”
“Eating healthy is simple when fresh produce is easy to come by,” he says.
“Are you teasing me about coming from a landlocked state?”
“Those were your words, not mine,” he retorts, shooting me a smirk.
“Funny.”
Jasper leans back onto his elbows. “How was work today?”
“It was good, I guess,” I say, brushing hair away from my face.
“You don’t need me to pretend to be your boyfriend and scare off the mean girls again, do you?” he jokes.
I dip my head down, trying to hide my cheeks’ redness. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
His eyebrows raise. “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”
“I’m used to girls like that.” The phrase slips out of my mouth, and I instantly regret admitting it.
“What do you mean?”
I slap the sand off my linen pants, keeping my head low. “It’s nothing.”
Jasper leans forward, now resting his arms on bent knees. He turns his head, capturing my eyes in his. “Tell me.”
I briefly pause before speaking. “I grew up more well off than the average kid, let’s just say that.” Rapidly blinking, I look away. “I was often used for my parents’ money.”
He nods. “Interesting.”
“What do you mean byinteresting?”
“Nothing.” He scoots closer to me. “Then who was there for you when your parents died?”
A little forward of him to ask such a personal question, but I go with it. I can hardly admit to myself I’ve had no real friends, so why not a guy who I barely know?
“No one.”
“Really?” He keeps his voice low, but it’s impossible to hide the shock it’s laced with.
Maybe if I tell him the truth that I never needed anyone anyway, then he’ll drop the conversation, and everything will make sense why I’ve never had real friendships either. Or I could lay it all on the table, but admitting that I prefer to spend my time alone?
“I’ve never had any real friends.” I pull my lip to the side, a little embarrassed about my submission, but whatever.
“I find that hard to believe.” He smiles, then nudges my shoulder with his.
“I prefer to spend my time alone.” I look away, avoiding the impending scrutiny for being different.
“But you’re so friendly.”
“Again, funny,” I say.
