Chapter 77 Tomorrow
AVA
My heart’s still racing. The heavy beat of it reverberates through my chest, matching the pounding rhythm of Liam’s kiss, as if his lips are the only thing anchoring me to this moment, the only proof that this is real and not something I imagined in the lonely hours before he came back. His hands are gentle but insistent as they explore my skin, sliding slowly over my waist and up my ribs, like he’s memorizing every inch of me, committing it to memory in case he ever doubts this again. There’s reverence in his touch, but also urgency, like he’s afraid if he loosens his grip I might disappear.
He’s forgiven me. I can feel it in the way his mouth softens against mine, in the way his fingers curl into me instead of holding me at a distance. The weight that’s been crushing my chest for days begins to lift with every tender brush of his thumb, every quiet exhale against my skin. I can’t believe this is real. A few hours ago, I thought I’d lost him forever. I thought I’d pushed him too far, let my fear ruin the one thing that’s ever felt safe. But here we are, tangled together in the softness of his sheets, wrapped up in each other like the rest of the world has been muted. Outside these walls, life keeps moving. Inside this room, it’s just us.
“You’re so beautiful, Ava,” Liam murmurs, his voice a low rasp that slides over me like heat. The way he says it isn’t casual. It isn’t flattery. It’s almost disbelieving, like he’s in awe of something fragile and fierce at the same time. I meet his gaze, and his dark eyes are filled with heat, yes, but also something deeper. Something steady. Something that makes me feel claimed in the safest way possible. Not owned. Not possessed. Just chosen. Wholly and completely.
I open my mouth to speak, to tell him I love him, to tell him I was so scared of losing him I made the worst choice possible, but the words falter as his lips capture mine again. He silences everything but the heat between us, everything but the steady reassurance of his body pressed to mine. His hands slide up my back, fingers splaying wide, pressing me closer like he needs the proof of me against him. Like he needs to feel my heartbeat matching his.
Liam pulls away for a moment, and the loss of his mouth leaves me breathless. His eyes scan my face, searching, his brow furrowed not in anger but in concern. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low, threaded with need but grounded in something protective. “Tomorrow’s big for me… it’s everything I’ve been working for. And you… You’re carrying our baby. I need to know that you're okay, that you’re really here with me.” There’s vulnerability there. A crack in his armor he rarely shows. He isn’t asking for permission. He’s asking for certainty.
I bite my lip, feeling the weight of his words settle between us. Tomorrow is his biggest game. The comeback everyone’s watching. The one that could cement his name again, could prove he’s still the unstoppable force he was before the injury tried to take everything from him. I’ve seen the early mornings, the gritted teeth, the silent frustration when his body wouldn’t cooperate. I know what this means to him. But tonight isn’t about proving anything to the world. Tonight is about us remembering who we are.
“I’m right here, Liam,” I breathe against his lips, letting my voice carry every ounce of certainty I feel. “I’m with you, always.” I reach up, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the strength there, before pulling him down to kiss me again. This kiss is slower, deeper. Less frantic. It says I’m not going anywhere.
His body presses closer to mine, the heat of him seeping into me. His muscles are taut beneath my palms, coiled strength and barely restrained need. His hand slides down to my thigh, warm and deliberate, urging me to shift until we’re perfectly aligned. His mouth leaves mine, trailing down the curve of my neck, hot breath fanning against my skin as he kisses, licks, and gently bites his way toward my collarbone. Every touch is intentional. Every brush of his lips feels like a promise.
I gasp, the sensation shooting straight through me, a sharp wave of desire that crashes over me so intensely I have to grip his shoulders to steady myself. My thoughts scatter. The only thing that makes sense is the way he feels against me, the way his name trembles on my lips.
“God, baby,” Liam mutters, his voice thick with hunger as he lifts his head to look at me. His eyes are darker now, heavy with want, but still anchored by something protective. He’s not just kissing me anymore. He’s devouring me like he’s been starving for this closeness, for the reassurance that I’m here and choosing him just as fiercely as he’s choosing me.
And in a way, I’ve been starving too. For him. For the steady weight of his body over mine. For the love we nearly let fear poison. For the trust we’re carefully stitching back together with every breath and touch. I want to give him everything tonight. Every doubt, every apology, every piece of myself. I want him to feel how much I believe in us.
I run my hands down his chest, feeling the smooth, hard planes of his body beneath my fingertips, tracing the lines I know by heart. My voice is soft but sure when I whisper, “Make love to me, Liam. Show me that you’re here. Show me that we’re really okay.” It isn’t just about desire. It’s about reassurance. About sealing the cracks with something stronger than fear.
He groans, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through both of us. His hands move to my hips, guiding me gently beneath him as he shifts, hovering above me with careful control. His eyes never leave mine, like he’s reading every flicker of emotion there, making sure I’m steady, making sure I’m safe.
“I’m going to take care of you, Ava. I won’t let anything happen to you or our baby,” he says, the words rough with emotion, like a vow carved straight from his chest. It’s not bravado. It’s devotion.
I nod, pulling him closer, my body aching for him in a way that feels emotional as much as physical. I need the closeness. The reassurance. The certainty of his arms around me. And then, with a fierce, passionate kiss that steals the air from my lungs, he slowly, gently enters me, moving with a care that makes my chest tighten. The world outside the room fades completely. There’s no arena. No cameras. No expectations. Just us.
Every inch of him feels like heat and gravity and home all at once. I feel every controlled movement, every subtle shift of his body, every shudder that runs through him as he holds himself steady. He moves with slow, deliberate intensity, like he’s savoring this, like he understands that this is more than physical. This is rebuilding. This is forgiveness in motion. We’re not just making love. We’re reconnecting threads that were fraying. He isn’t claiming me out of dominance. He’s claiming us. And I’m surrendering not out of weakness, but out of trust. Out of belief in the future we’re building.
As he moves within me, I feel the bond between us strengthen, tightening in the best way. There’s no fear left in the space between our bodies. No lingering doubts whispering in the back of my mind. Just warmth. Just the steady rhythm of his breath against mine. Just the love we fought for and almost lost.
And tomorrow, when he steps onto that ice and the world watches him chase victory, I’ll be there. Not just in the stands. Not just cheering. I’ll be there knowing that tonight, in this room, we chose each other again.
No matter what the scoreboard says, tonight we win.
Tonight, we are untouchable.