Chapter 41 Relished
Liam Carter
I feel her the moment she steps through the door.
Ava’s presence settles into the space like a whisper, soft, quiet, but impossible to ignore. But I keep my eyes closed, breathing steady, pretending to be asleep on the couch. Not because I want to, but because I know she needs this. Needs the quiet. Needs the moment to herself.
And because I want to see what she does when she thinks I’m not looking.
Her footsteps are light, moving toward me. The warmth of her body draws closer, the scent of her still carrying the faintest trace of the night air. And then… soft and barely even there.
Her lips press against my forehead.
I almost react, almost grab her, flip her onto the couch, and demand to know why she keeps fighting this thing between us. But I stay still, letting her think she got away with it.
She pulls back, sighs, and then her footsteps retreat up the stairs.
I wait a beat, listening as she moves through her room, probably freshening up, shedding the weight of the night off her skin. Only when I hear the faint sound of the shower running do I finally sit up, scrubbing a hand over my face and exhaling a long breath.
That kiss, my goodness that freaking kiss!
It was nothing, just a simple touch, a mere act of skin grazing one another, yet...yet, it was somehow was everything.
Shaking off the thought, I push to my feet and head into the kitchen, deciding to busy myself with making dinner. Something simple. Pasta, because it’s quick. Garlic bread, because she’ll roll her eyes and pretend she doesn’t care, but I know she loves it.
The water’s boiling when I hear her footsteps again, this time softer, slower. I don’t turn around right away. Instead, I focus on the pot, stirring with the kind of concentration that says I’m giving you space, but I know you’re there.
Then she stops at the doorway and I can feel her eyes on me, burning into my skin and finding it's way into my godamn veins. I loved it, relished in it even.
Silence stretches between us, filled with all the words we haven’t said.
Finally, I turn, and when I look at her, I don’t smirk, don’t tease. Because this moment isn’t about that. It’s about her standing there, looking at me like she’s caught in the middle of something that she can’t name.
I smile, slow and easy, trying to ground her.
Ava breathes in deeply, then, as if making some kind of decision, she finally speaks.
"So what now, Captain?"
I place the spoon down, wiping my hands on a towel before stepping closer.
"First, we eat." I jerk my chin toward the dining table. "Come here."
She hesitates only a second before pushing off the doorframe and walking over. I grab the plates, bringing them to the table, and she follows, slipping into the chair across from me.
We eat in silence at first. Not uncomfortable, just... loaded. Like we’re both bracing for something.
I watch her. Watch the way she twirls her fork through her pasta, the way her eyes flicker toward me when she thinks I’m not paying attention.
Finally, I lean back in my chair, stretching out my legs.
“So,” I say casually, “are we gonna talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” She doesn’t look up.
“Come on, Snowflake. Don’t do that.” I huff a quiet laugh.
Her fingers tighten around her fork as she stabs a piece of pasta, then lifts it to her mouth, chewing slowly before responding.
“I just think we should be realistic,” she says finally.
“Realistic.” My jaw flexes.
She nods. “You’re getting back into hockey. You have a career ahead of you. You don’t need distractions right now.”
“Funny. I don’t feel distracted.” My grip tightens on my fork.
This was her final act pretense, so I let her have it
“Liam.” Her voice is softer now, and when she finally looks at me, I see it, the fight, the struggle. The part of her that wants this but is terrified to let herself have it.
I sigh, setting my fork down and leaning forward. “Ava. Do you really think I would’ve played the way I did tonight if I wasn’t in the right headspace?”
She doesn’t answer.
“You know why I won, don’t you?” I tilt my head. “Why I played like my life depended on it?”
“Liam” She swallows, looking away.
“Because of you.” My voice is low but firm. “Because you were there, watching me, making me want to be better. Stronger.” I lean closer, my eyes locked on hers. “You’re not a distraction, Snowflake. You’re the reason I’m still standing, the reason I want to keep standing. Don’t take that away from me or you”
Her breath hitches.
I watch as she grips the edge of the table as she looks torn between running and giving in.
So I decide for her.
Pushing back my chair, I stand, rounding the table. Ava watches me warily as I stop beside her, waiting. Then, slowly, I extend my hand.
She looks at it, then up at me.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you a choice.” My lips quirk up.
A beat. Then another.
And then, finally, she places her hand in mine.
My fingers close around hers, firm and steady, and I tug her up, pulling her into me.
Close.
So fucking close.
Her breath stutters, her body pressing against mine, and I lower my head until our foreheads almost touch.
“No more running, Snowflakes.” My voice is a whisper, filled with every ounce of determination in my body. “No more pretending.”
She exhales shakily, her fingers curling against my chest.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she admits, voice barely above a whisper.
I smirk, brushing a thumb over her jaw. “Then let me teach you.”
And with that, I tilt her chin up and kiss her.