Page 127 of Going Viral for Christmas
We fall into rhythm. The cards alternate between silly and soul-baring.
“What’s your biggest fear?” I ask.
Not being enough for someone to stay.
Ava doesn’t say that aloud, but I see it in her pause. I heard her tonight. I listened.
She finally exhales. “Geese.”
Taken by surprise, and very fucking confused, I repeat. “Geese?”
“They have teeth on their tongues, Soren. Teeth. On their tongues. That’s not a bird. That’s a demon in a down coat.”
I laugh, hysterically. “Fair. I was expecting commitment or spiders. But geese?”
“They hiss. Theychase. I got attacked on a second-grade field trip, and honestly? I still flinch when I see a pond.”
Her eyes meet mine. The humor fades, but the openness lingers. It’s not thewholetruth. But it’s enough for now.
Geese?
Who knew?
She takes another card. “What’s one thing no one knows about you?”
“I learned how to bake during lockdown,” I answer. “Got weirdly good at scones and cinnamon rolls.”
“You could star in my next book.”
“Would love to.” I pick the next card up. “What’s something you want but won’t admit?”
She hesitates. Takes a long pull of her wine, then says, “You.”
My pulse is a drumline in my throat, rhythmic and insistent, but my hands stay where they are. I’m afraid any movement will scare her off.
“Ava,” I murmur, her name the softest thing I’ve ever said.
She looks away. Her fingers twist in her lap. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Yes, you definitely should have said that.”
Ava lifts her gaze. Her eyes are glassy, bottomless, guarded. But the door’s been cracked open.
One more inch.
“You make it almost impossible to keep my walls in place,” she whispers.
I push my chair back and stand, the legs scraping softly against the cobblestone floor. Leaning over the table, Sixteen Candles–style, I close the distance until our breaths tangle in the space between us while clutching the edges of he table to brace myself. “Tear them down, Bells. Let me in.”
Her breath shivers out, fragile and unsteady.
“I’m not going anywhere. You want me? You’ve got me. No games. No gutting.”
“I don’t know how to do this without breaking something.”
“Then break me,” my voice is just for her. “Just don’t lie to yourself about what this is between us.”
Ava’s answer is in her silence. She tilts her chin up, glassy eyes shining as though she might finally let herself fall.
