She doesn't even realize she's doing it. Halfway through, her head bumps into my shoulder and my heart skips a beat.
I look down, and she whispers, without looking up, "Thank you for today."
"For what?"
"For remembering," she says softly. "For everything." I don't say anything right away. I can't. If I speak now, I'll say too much. I'll tell her that I love her. So I nod and place a soft kiss on the top of her head.
She doesn't move, and neither do I. We stay like this for a while: her head resting on my shoulder, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of the blanket, the movie forgotten in the background. It's one of those silent moments that speak louder than words, the kind that fills a room with unspoken things.
"I can't believe it's been four years," she finally murmurs, without lifting her head.
"You built something incredible," I say. "Books & Beans is you. Warm, a little chaotic, full of stories... and impossible to stay away from."
She lets out a quiet laugh, one of those soft ones that comes from deep within. "You make it sound so much more romantic than it is. Most days I'm knee-deep in bills, shipping, and worrying that Mia's latest date will turn out to be a serial killer."
"It's still romantic," I joke. "In a chaotic, caffeinated kind of way." She finally lifts her head, just enough to look me in the eyes. We're close. So close that I can see the tiny golden flecks in her irises, so close that if I leaned in a little, just a little, I could feel her breath on my lips. I could steal a kiss and pray she doesn't reject me.
But I don't. Neither does she.
Chapter three
Ava
ThemomentIliftmy head and our eyes meet, my pulse stumbles, then quickens. We’re so close, just an inch away from a kiss that’s been waiting in the silence between us. His scent wraps around me, warm cedar laced with bergamot, a trace of ink from hours spent tattooing and something else I can't quite put my finger on, so unique, so him.
It's intoxicating, and as always, being so close to him captivates me, making the walls I've built around my heart crack open even further.
And I know that someday, those walls will fall completely, and when they do, they’ll take my heart with them and it will be the end of me.
We stay like that, staring at each other for what could feel like seconds or hours, because time ceases to exist between us. We've always had a special connection, ever since the first day when the damn lock on my place wouldn't open.
But for some reason, it's been happening more often lately. Whenever we're alone together, our bodies seem drawn together like a magnet. We have to spend less time together; I have to guard my heart. I can't fall in love with him.Fall in love more, you mean. That damn little voice in my head keeps reminding me.
I blink, forcing myself to look away, to step back into reality but neither of us moves just yet. It’s as if we’re suspended in this charged moment, right on the edge of what we want, but I, at least, don't have the courage to tip that knife sharp edge.
“Ava,” he says softly, and the way he says my name, sounds like a prayer, like it’s something precious and it makes my throat tighten.
I know I should say something, crack a joke, and shift the mood. But my voice doesn’t come. Instead, I just look up at him, heart thudding, wondering if he can hear the way she’s pounding through my chest.
He lifts a hand, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. The touch is feather-light, but it burns me to the ground. His fingers linger for a second too long, and when they fall away, I already miss his touch.
“You okay?” he asks, voice low and careful, as he’s afraid he’ll break this spell between us.
No. I’m not. Not when I’m this close to falling for a man who’s everything I told myself I couldn’t have.
But I nod.
“Yeah. Just… tired.”
It’s not a lie. Loving him in silence, refusing to give us a chance, and not being brave enough is exhausting.
He doesn’t press. He just studies me for a moment longer, something flickering in his eyes, like he knows I’m not saying everything, but he’s letting it slide. For now.
I lean back. Space. I need space. Oxygen. Distance. I can’t breathe properly with him so close.
“Thanks again for dinner,” I say, forcing a smile, even though my heart is still tangled in his gaze.
“Anytime beautiful,” and the way he says it makes it sound like he means forever.
