Chapter 19
Rook
Rook woke before the sun.
He always did, years of military conditioning, years of club life, years of never letting his guard down.
But this morning felt different.
Because Avery was in his arms.
Her head rested on his chest, her breath warm against his skin. One of her legs was tangled with his, her hand curled over his heart like she’d claimed it in her sleep.
And he hadn’t slept this deeply in years.
He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe too loudly. Didn’t dare wake her.
He just watched her.
The soft rise and fall of her chest. The way her hair spilled across his shoulder. The faint crease between her brows that only smoothed when she exhaled.
She looked peaceful. Safe. His.
Avery stirred, her lashes fluttering before her eyes slowly opened. She blinked up at him, sleepy and soft and heartbreakingly beautiful.
“Morning,” she whispered.
His chest tightened. “Hey.”
She shifted slightly, realizing how close they were — how wrapped around each other they’d become during the night. Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t pull away.
“Did you sleep?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Better than I have in a long time.”
Her eyes softened. “Me too.”
Silence settled between them, warm, intimate, full of everything they weren’t saying.
Avery traced a small circle on his chest with her fingertip. “Last night… I didn’t mean to fall apart.”
“You didn’t,” he said. “You trusted me. That’s different.”
She swallowed. “I don’t trust easily anymore.”
“I know.”
Her voice dropped. “But I trust you. That scares me.”
Rook’s breath caught.
He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t expected her to say it out loud.
“Aves…” he murmured.
She looked up at him, eyes shining. “I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what we’re doing. I just know that being near you feels like coming back to myself. And that scares me.”
Rook closed his eyes for a moment, letting the words hit him where he’d been trying not to feel anything.
When he opened them, she was still watching him — hopeful, terrified, open in a way that made his chest ache.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. His fingers lingered at her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek.
“Aves,” he murmured, voice low, “I need you to know something.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide. “What?”
He exhaled slowly. “I never stopped caring about you. Not once. Not for a damn day.”
Her pulse jumped.
“I tried,” he admitted. “I tried to move on. Tried to forget. Tried to bury it. But every time I thought I’d finally let you go…” He shook his head. “You’d show up in my dreams. Or I’d hear your laugh in a crowd. Or I’d see something that reminded me of you and it’d hit me all over again.”
Avery’s eyes glistened. He cupped her cheek. “Noah…”
She steadied herself. “I never stopped caring either. I thought I had. I told myself I had. But when I saw you again…” Her voice cracked. “It felt like I’d been holding my breath for years.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing hard, letting the words settle deep in his chest.
When he opened them, she was still looking at him like he was something worth staying for.
He leaned in. Not enough to kiss her, just enough to feel the warmth of her, enough to feel the pull of her, enough to feel everything he’d been trying to bury.
Avery’s lips parted.
He froze.
She froze.
The moment stretched, soft, fragile, dangerous.
Then he pulled back, breath unsteady.
Avery blinked. “Why did you stop?”
“Because wanting you scares the hell out of me,” he said quietly. “And I don’t know what happens if I mess this up.”
Her eyes softened. “I’m scared too.”
He let out a slow breath. “Yeah. I know.”
She reached for his hand, hesitant, unsure, and he let her take it.
Their fingers laced together.
Warm. Familiar. Dangerous.
He leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead, soft, reverent, almost a prayer.
The door slammed open.
“Breakfast!” Havoc shouted. “Stone says…”
Rook sat up so fast Avery nearly rolled off the bed.
Havoc froze in the doorway, eyes going wide. “Oh. Ohhh. My bad.”
Rook’s glare could’ve melted steel. “Get. Out.”
Havoc backed up with both hands raised. “Yep. Leaving. Gone. Didn’t see anything. Didn’t hear anything. I’m blind and deaf now.”
The door shut. Rook muttered, “I’m gonna kill him.”
Avery laughed, soft, warm, the sound easing the tension in his shoulders.
“Come on,” she said, touching his arm. “Let’s go eat.”
He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want the moment to end. But she smiled at him — really smiled — and he couldn’t say no to that.