Page 112 of Love so Cold

"None of that matters," I whisper, my forehead resting against hers. "Past hurts don't mean anything when we have this beautiful present. And hopefully, a future together."

A smile spreads across Avery's face, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She leans in, kissing me again, more urgently this time. I lose myself in the moment, savoring every second.

When we finally break apart, Avery looks at me curiously. "How did you come up with all of this? The development plan, everything?"

I can't help but chuckle. "You're not going to believe this, but a very persuasive ten-year-old showed up at my apartment with a plan to get us back together."

Avery's eyes widen, a burst of laughter escaping her lips. "Wait, are you serious? Olivia was the mastermind behind all this?"

I nod, unable to keep the grin off my face. "Absolutely true. Your daughter's quite the schemer."

"I can't believe it," Avery shakes her head, still chuckling. "We'll have to name one of the buildings after her or something. To commemorate her efforts."

I lean in, brushing my lips against hers. "Whatever you want. You're in charge now, remember?"

The car slows to a stop, and I glance out the window. We've arrived at Avery's house. My heart skips a beat as I realize our time together is coming to an end. I don't want this night to be over.

I open the door and step out, offering my hand to Avery. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Avery takes my hand but doesn't let go. Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "Yes, you'll see me tomorrow. But you'll also see me tonight because you're coming inside."

My breath catches in my throat. Is this really happening? I turn to the front of the car, calling out, "Goodnight, Marcus. Thanks for the ride."

As Marcus nods and drives away, I feel a tug on my hand. Avery's already heading towards the house, pulling me along. I can't help but laugh as I chase after her, my heart lighter than it's been in years.

Chapter Sixty

Avery

I'm standingat the threshold of my home, a place that's been my safe haven, my fortress of solitude. But as I fumble with the keys, Victor beside me, there's a flutter in my chest that feels both terrifying and exhilarating. It's like I'm unlocking more than just a door—I'm unlocking a future that I've kept bolted shut for so long.

"Scary, isn't it?" I mumble, mostly to myself.

Victor gives me a curious glance, his piercing blue eyes searching mine for something deeper than the words I've let slip. "What is?"

"Letting someone in. Really in," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I push the door open, stepping into the familiar darkness of my living room, but it feelsdifferent this time. Electric. Alive. Victor's presence fills up the space, makes it warmer somehow.

"Hey," he says softly, reaching for my hand. His touch sends a tingle up my arm. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

But as I look around at the walls that have shielded me from the world, at the worn sofa that's cradled my lonely nights, I realize that maybe I've been waiting for him all along. That every heartache and hurdle was leading me here, to this moment.

"Maybe I've always been ready," I confess, my voice steadier than I feel. "Just... didn't know it was you I was waiting for."

A ghost of a smile plays on Victor's lips, a hint of the boy who learned to skate on a frozen pond, who found joy in the glide of blades on ice even when life gave him little else to smile about. The same boy who grew up to build walls around his own heart, walls I never thought I'd see crumble.

He steps closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with the crisp winter air still clinging to his jacket. He reaches up, his fingers gentle as they brush a stray lock of hair away from my face. His touch lingers, tracing the line of my jaw before his hand cups my cheek. There's a tenderness there that speaks volumes, that says everything his guarded heart has kept silent.

Then, Victor leans in, his breath warm against mylips before they meet mine in a kiss that's soft yet insistent. It's a conversation without words, each press of his lips a sentence, a story, a promise. I melt into him, letting go of the fears that have held me back.

We stand there, in the quiet embrace of my home, communicating in the language of touch and taste and shared breath. And I know, beyond any doubt, that everything he wants to say, everything I need to hear, is right here in this kiss.

Victor's kiss deepens, a fervent declaration that stirs something wild within me. His hands, firm and assuring, roam my back as if memorizing every curve, every edge of my vulnerability. I'm lost in the moment, in him, and there's no other place I'd rather be.

"Bedroom," he murmurs against my lips, a single word laden with unspoken promises.

"Okay," I whisper back, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.

We navigate through the dimly lit hallway, our steps a silent dance guided by the pulsing connection between us. My bedroom door swings open, and the familiar sanctuary of my private space becomes the backdrop for this new, intimate chapter with Victor.

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