Page 87 of Going Viral for Christmas
Ava gives me the smallest laugh—a spark of light breaking through the heaviness—and I feel it in my chest.
“Better with swords?” she teases, the corner of her mouth lifting, eyes glinting in the low light.
“Infinitely,” I reply with a smirk. “Though fair warning—when it comes to you, I’d never fight fair.” I’m resting my elbows on my knees, a grin tugging at my lips before I can stop it. “I feel like this has deeply bonded us.” There’s a tinge of mischief in my tone. “And now, I know the bar I have to clear is post-poultry Oasis covers.”
Ava laughs again, pulling her hand to her chest, and for the first time all night, it doesn’t feel like she’s running. If anything, she’s leaning in, and maybe, finally, I’m the one catching up.
Angling toward her, my knee brushes hers—just a fleeting touch, but enough to spark through me like flint on steel. She still won’t meet my eyes, yet her hand drifts down from where it guarded her chest, a quiet surrender, as if the gates of her fortress have opened wide enough to let me step inside.
My fingers graze hers—light, uncertain—more question than touch.Can I reach you? Can I stay here, like this, a little longer?
“You don’t have to keep bracing for impact,” I say quietly.
Her gaze lifts, cautious but curious. “What?”
“For people to hurt you,” I clarify. “Some of us show up to hold what’s broken, not make new cracks.”
Her eyes search mine, wary and bright, and for a heartbeat, I swear she lets me in. The wall’s still there—thinner now, splintering some. If I breathe too hard, it might finally give.
“If you ever gave me a chance with you, I mean.”
We sit, suspended in the delicate and the dangerous until she moves—leaning into the moment without realizing it. I take it as permission.One more inch.
My hand slides to Ava’s cheek, tentative at first, then sure. Her skin is warm under my palm. Lowering my voice, because anything louder would break this spell, I say, “I’m going to kiss you now, Bells.”
Her breath falters. I feel it. We’re so close, I count the flecks of amber in her eyes.
“Unless you tell me not to.”
Not a word comes out of those perfect lips.
One more inch.
Slow at first, testing the limits of a wish I never thought I’d get to make, I kiss Ava’s lips. They’re soft, warm, hesitant for a heartbeat… and then she exhales into it, and everything changes. She starts kissing me like she’s been holding back for years and has finally stopped caring about the consequences.
And then–
Ava pounces.
The clink of wine glasses hitting the floor is faint, forgotten as she pushes me flat against the creaky floorboards of the treehouse.
I grunt in surprise, hands finding the curve of her hips as she straddles me, hair falling around us in a red curtain.
Her mouth is everywhere—my lips, my jaw, my throat. Slender fingers twist into my shirt, tugging, claiming.
I’m hard beneath her in seconds. No hope of hiding it. Especially when Ava starts to grind against me, chasing a need that’s clearly been burning inside her, the same as it has in me.
A groan slips out.“Fuuuck.”My hands tighten around her waist, guiding her rhythm, drinking in every gasp and shiver as if they could be my last.
She stops. Freezes, really. And sits up. One hand braces my chest, the other is curled at her side as though she’s not sure what it’s doing there. Her breathing is ragged. Her lips are swollen and parted. Her eyes were wide and glassy, darting away from mine.
“You okay?” I ask softly, not moving.
Her throat bobs like she’s pushing razor blades down when she swallows.
“I—” She scrambles backward like the floor’s on fire. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I don’t?—”
“Ava.” My voice is firm, not demanding.
