Chapter 42 Dining
Ava Reed
The dining table was cleared, the dishes rinsed, and the house was quiet except for the steady hum of the heater. But inside me, there was nothing but swirling, burning, and all the havoc.
It was the kind of quiet that pressed in on you, heavy and expectant, like the house itself was holding its breath. Every room felt charged, familiar walls suddenly too close, too aware of the history soaked into them. I could still smell dinner in the air, still feel the domestic normalcy clinging to my skin, and it terrified me more than chaos ever had.
Liam sat on the couch, his arm lazily draped over the back, watching me with those eyes, deep and knowing, like he could see straight into my soul and wasn’t afraid of anything he found there. He wasn’t cocky like he usually was. He wasn’t trying to push or demand anything.
That was new. Disarming. Dangerous.
He was just waiting.
Not like a predator stalking prey. Like a man who had already decided he’d stay, no matter how long it took for me to choose him back.
And maybe that was what finally broke me.
Because for the first time, I wanted to stop running.
The realization hit hard, knocking the breath from my lungs. I’d built my life around escape routes, around exits and backups and plans that kept my heart protected. Wanting to stay felt like standing naked in the open, daring the world to hurt me.
I exhaled slowly, my feet carrying me forward like I wasn’t in control of my own body. Like I was pulled to him, my gravity shifting in ways I couldn’t fight anymore.
Each step felt deliberate, final. A quiet decision etched into movement rather than words.
Liam didn’t say anything when I sat beside him. He didn’t smirk or gloat or tell me, I knew you’d come around. He just slid his fingers along my jaw, so gentle, so reverent, and when his thumb brushed over my bottom lip, I sighed into it, my eyes fluttering shut.
The tenderness undid me faster than force ever could. My pulse skidded, my chest tightening as if my body recognized safety before my mind allowed it.
“I can feel you thinking,” he murmured.
Of course he could. He always could. Liam had always known when I was spiraling, when fear and desire tangled together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
My lips parted, but before I could even form a thought, he kissed me again.
It wasn’t hungry. It wasn’t urgent. It was slow, the kind of kiss that was meant to be felt, like he wanted me to understand what he was trying to say without words.
That he wasn’t chasing. That he wasn’t forcing. That this was an invitation.
I melted into him, pressing closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my chest.
Strong. Certain. Real.
Home.
That was what it felt like.
The word settled deep in my bones, unwelcome and irresistible all at once.
His hands slid down my back, his touch soothing, like he was telling me it was okay to let go. That he’d catch me.
I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been holding myself together until that moment. How much energy it took to stay guarded every second of every day.
I pulled away just enough to look into his eyes, my fingers trailing over his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt.
He was watching me like I mattered. Like this moment mattered.
“I don’t want to fight this anymore,” I whispered.
Saying it out loud made it real. Made it terrifying.
His jaw clenched, his grip tightening on my waist. “Ava…”
There was a warning in his voice. Not for me. For himself.
“I mean it.”
I needed him to hear that this wasn’t impulse or weakness. This was choice.
A slow, controlled breath left him, his forehead pressing against mine.
“Say it, then.”
My heart slammed hard against my ribs, panic flaring for a split second. Words had always been my downfall. Words were promises. And promises were things that could break you.
I swallowed, my heart pounding so hard I felt it in my throat. But when I spoke, there was no hesitation.
“I’m yours, Liam.”
The truth of it rang through me, settling somewhere deep and permanent.
A groan rumbled from his chest, and then I was on my back, his body covering mine, his lips crashing into mine with a desperation that set my skin on fire.
The shift was immediate. Controlled patience snapping into need.
I gasped as he pressed into me, his thigh pushing between mine, making my pulse stutter. His fingers tangled in my hair, gripping it just enough to make me arch into him, my body already aching for more.
Every nerve lit up, awareness sharpening until there was nothing but him and the way my body responded like it had been waiting for this exact moment.
“I’m not going to be gentle, Ava,” he warned against my mouth.
The promise in his voice sent heat spiraling low in my belly.
“I don’t want gentle.”
I needed him the way he was. Unfiltered. Honest. Unrestrained.
His forehead dropped against my shoulder, his breaths coming fast and heavy.
“I need you to understand something,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my collarbone.
The seriousness in his tone cut through the haze, grounding me.
I swallowed hard, nodding.
“I don’t want this to be a moment, Snowflakes.” His voice was rough, strained. “I don’t want to touch you like this if you’re going to push me away again tomorrow.”
The vulnerability in his words shattered something inside me.
I felt something break inside me.
He wasn’t doubting me. He wasn’t trying to control anything. He just needed to know that if he let go, if he gave me everything, that I wouldn’t run.
That trust went both ways.
I cupped his face, forcing him to look at me.
His eyes searched mine, raw and unguarded.
“I’m not running,” I whispered. “Not anymore.”
The words felt like stepping off a ledge and realizing there was solid ground beneath me after all.
Liam let out a breath, like I’d just set him free. And then his mouth was on mine again, deeper, hungrier, more certain.
There was no hesitation this time. No fear clouding the edges.
And this time, when he touched me, he didn’t hold back.
And I was not going to either.