Chapter 175 The Tide

Chapter 175 The Tide
Kieran's POV

“Aveline?” We both froze.

Aveline pulled away from me so quickly that the water moved between us. I turned toward the voice. A guy was standing on the rocks above the cove, staring down at us. His jeans were wet around the ankles, and he had a towel hanging from one shoulder.

Aveline looked up at him. “Liam? Didn't know anyone else came down here.”

His eyes moved from her to me. Aveline opened her mouth. “Liam, this is.."

“Her boyfriend,” I said. She turned to me so fast I almost laughed. Liam stared at me for a second. Then he laughed. “So you're Kieran.”

I frowned. “You know me?”

“Aveline talks about you.”

Aveline groaned. “Liam.”

“What?” He grinned. “I thought you were someone she made up. Good to finally meet you, man.”

“Yeah. You too.”

“Liam is my childhood friend,” Aveline explained quickly, her eyes warning me to drop the attitude.

“Right,” Liam said. “Well, since you're actually real and you're in town, I am having my birthday gathering up at our cottage tonight. You guys should come by.”

Aveline shook her head immediately. “We can't, Liam. We've had a long day, and Kieran has to drive back tomorrow anyway.”

“We'll be there,” I said, interrupting her again.

Aveline snapped her head around, glaring at me, but I didn't look away from Liam. I gave him a firm nod, confirming the invitation. "Just tell us what time."

"Around eight," Liam smiled. “I'll let you two finish whatever this is...”

“Liam! He laughed as he climbed back up. I watched him disappear before looking at Aveline. “You talk about me?”

She gave me a look. “Don't start. You are unbelievable, Hampton,” she said, squeezing her hair. “Was that necessary? 'I'm her boyfriend.' You sounded like you wanted to hit him with a body check.”

“I didn't say anything wrong. He was staring too much.”

“You were jealous.” She splashed water at me. I caught her wrist, pulling her back toward me, and just like that, she was smiling again.

We climbed out of the water, dried off, and walked back up the trail. Aveline seemed to already know about the gathering; Liam was just casually reminding her about it. But walking into the cottage at eight o'clock, I realized how much I hadn't prepared myself for what her absence actually meant.

The house was small, wood-paneled, and packed with local kids. Yellow bulbs hung from the porch rafters, lighting up a driveway full of old trucks. The moment we crossed the threshold, Liam called her name from the kitchen, waving her over to introduce her to a group of guys by the counter.

I stood near the living room doorway, my hands in my pockets. I watched her talk to a tall defenseman who was handing her a cup and asking about the league. She laughed at something he said, nodding easily as she leaned against the counter. She didn't look like a girl running from a scandal. She had built something here, a completely separate routine with people who knew her better.

She seemed so different in Milford, watching her move through the crowd, I realized I was the only part of her old life still trying to hold on.

Aveline must have noticed how hard I was trying to fit in because she excused herself from the conversation and walked over, grabbing my wrist.

"Come on," she whispered, pulling me toward the side door. "Let me show you something."
She led me out the back of the house, away from the music and the shouting, down a narrow path toward a building at the edge of the water. It was an old boathouse; she pushed the door open. The moon was high over the harbor, cutting through the windows.

"My grandfather always visits Liam's parents," Aveline said, walking to the edge of the railing to look at the water. "When the cottage gets too loud, I come down here. You can see the whole channel from the deck."

She didn't stop talking. Her voice was too fast, her words overlapping as if she were trying to block out the silence that had settled between us since we left the beach.

I wasn't interested in what she was saying, so I pulled her in hard. My mouth crashed into hers before she could speak. Raw. Desperate. No softness left.

I drove her back until her shoulders hit the wall. My hands locked in her hair, holding her there. She didn’t push me away. Her fingers clawed into my neck and dragged me down with her onto the floor.

Skin cold. Everything else burning. My hands shoved under her gown up her ribs. I stripped her fast. My palms dragged down her stomach, between her thighs, fingers pushing into her without waiting.

She was already wet. I worked her open while my other hand pinned her wrist above her head. Then I freed myself, shoved her legs wider, and drove in.

Hard. Deep. No rhythm at first, just need. My hands gripped her hips, pulling her onto every thrust. The floor creaked. Her nails raked my back. I fucked her until she broke under me, then followed, buried to the hilt, hands still locked on her like I couldn’t let go.

Afterward, the boathouse went quiet. Aveline was full of smiles as I looked at her, the reality of me leaving already settling back into my chest.

"Come back to Crestwood with me," I said.
Aveline didn't move. She kept her eyes on me. "I can't, Kieran. We talked about this ."

"You have to write your exams," I insisted, reaching my arm to her face. " You can still finish out the semester.

"If all this is about Michigan, my scholarship was revoked, Kieran." There's no slight chance I will even be allowed to try out for the women's league after what happened ".

"It's not about Michigan," I said, pulling a blanket over her. "I don't care about the university, Aveline. Anywhere you choose is fine. What matters is that you don't stay buried down here."

She pulled back out of my grip, her face tightening. "I'm not buried here. I'm finally living my own life."

"By working a rental desk and playing open practices for fun?" I asked, my voice rising as the frustration finally broke through. "You can't let him take this from you too. You can't just let him win."

Aveline stood up slowly. She didn't look angry as she picked up her clothes from the floor and pulled them on.

"I'm sorry, Kieran," she whispered, looking down at me one last time. "I tried. But I can't do it anymore."

She turned and walked out. I stayed on the blanket, listening to her words over and over again until the boathouse was completely quiet.

The next morning, the sun hadn't even cleared when I backed my truck out of the driveway. As I drove back home alone.