Chapter 12 #3
"If anything hurts, if anything doesn't feel right, you tell me. We stop. Okay?"
"Okay."
He pushed forward, slow and careful. There was pressure, then a stretch, then a brief, sharp sting that made me suck in a breath. He froze immediately.
"Ava—"
"I'm okay." I pulled him closer, wrapped my legs around his hips. "Just... give me a second."
He held perfectly still, pressing kisses to my forehead, my cheeks, the corner of my mouth. Whispering my name like a prayer. And slowly, gradually, the discomfort faded, replaced by something else. Something fuller. Something right.
"Okay," I breathed. "You can move."
He did—slow, careful, watching my face for any sign of pain. But there was no pain now. Just sensation building on sensation, pleasure I hadn't known my body was capable of.
This is what it's supposed to feel like, I thought. This is what it means to trust someone completely.
We found a rhythm together. His forehead dropped to mine, our breath mingling, our bodies learning each other in the most intimate way possible. I'd spent thirty-two years guarding myself, protecting myself, convincing myself I didn't need this.
I'd been wrong.
I hadn’t known how much I needed him. Until now.
"Brian." My voice broke on his name. "I'm going to—"
"I know. I've got you. Let go."
I did. And this time, when the pleasure crested and broke, he was right there with me, my name falling from his lips like he'd been waiting his whole life to say it.
Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, my head on his chest, his fingers tracing patterns on my shoulder. My body felt different—tender in new places, alive in ways I hadn't expected.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
"Better than okay." I pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. "That was..."
"Yeah." I could hear the smile in his voice. "It was."
"I can't believe I waited thirty-two years for that."
He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Worth the wait?"
I propped myself up on one elbow, looking down at him. His hair was a mess. His lips were swollen. He looked absolutely wrecked, and absolutely happy.
"You were worth the wait," I said. "All of it. Every moment."
His expression shifted. Softer. Unguarded. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I love you, Ava."
The words should have terrified me. Should have sent me running, walls slamming back into place again.
Instead, they settled into place. Like a key finally finding its lock.
"I love you too."
Watson's indignant yowl echoed from somewhere in the hallway—he'd been exiled, and he was not taking it well.
"He's going to hold this against us," I murmured.
"He'll forgive us. Eventually."
"You don't know him like I do. He's incredibly petty."
Brian laughed and pulled me closer, tucking me against his side like I belonged there. Like I'd always belonged there.
Maybe I always had.
I closed my eyes. His heartbeat was slow now. Steady. Mine was still catching up. Outside, the city hummed its endless song of sirens and traffic and the distant rumble of the subway. The same sounds I'd fallen asleep to for years.
But everything was different now.
Brick by brick, wall by wall, until I was sealed inside a fortress of my own making. I'd told myself it was strength. Independence. Freedom.
It was loneliness. I just hadn’t known.
"Hey." Brian's voice was soft, drowsy. "Stop thinking so loud."
"How do you know I'm thinking?"
"You get this little furrow right here." He reached up without opening his eyes and pressed his finger gently between my brows, right where it always formed. "Dead giveaway."
I caught his hand, pressed a kiss to his palm. "I was thinking about how wrong I've been."
"About what?"
"About needing people. And pretending I didn’t." I laced my fingers through his. "I thought it made you weak. Turns out it just makes you... not alone."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he squeezed my hand.
"You're not alone anymore," he said. "Not with me. That's a promise."
I believed him.
For the first time in all those years, I let myself stay with the belief.
I woke to sunlight and the smell of coffee.
Brian's side of the bed was empty but still warm. Watson had reclaimed his territory at some point during the night, curled into a gray ball of fur at the foot of the mattress, watching me with an expression that clearly communicated he had not yet forgiven us for the exile.
"Morning," I murmured.
He blinked slowly. Unimpressed.
I stretched, feeling muscles I'd forgotten I had, and couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face. Last night had been real enough. Brian loved me. I loved him. And for the first time in fourteen years, I'd let someone all the way in.
It was terrifying.
It was wonderful.
"Hey." Brian appeared in the doorway, two mugs of coffee in his hands, wearing nothing but sweatpants slung low on his hips. "You're awake."
"I'm awake." I sat up, pulling the sheet with me. "Is one of those for me?"
"Depends." He crossed to the bed, held the mug just out of reach. "What do I get in return?"
"What do you want?"
He pretended to consider. "A good morning kiss. And maybe you stay in bed for another hour."
"I have a shift—" I started, then stopped. Checked my phone. "Actually, I don't. Day off."
"I know." His grin was smug. "I checked your schedule."
"That's creepy."
"That's romance."
I laughed. The kind of laugh I hadn't heard from myself in months. I pulled him down onto the bed, coffee sloshing dangerously. He saved the mugs at the last second, setting them on the nightstand before turning back to me with a look that made my stomach flip.
"Good morning," he said softly.
"Good morning."
He kissed me—slow and sweet, tasting like coffee and happiness and everything I'd been too afraid to want.
Watson meowed pointedly from the foot of the bed.
"Five more minutes," Brian said against my lips.
"Five more minutes," I agreed.
The Langs were still out there. The case wasn't over. The danger hadn't passed.
But right now, in this bed, with this man, none of that mattered.
I had Brian. I had Watson, grudging forgiveness and all. I had this strange, unexpected family that had formed around me without my permission.
I had everything I never knew I wanted.
And this time, I wasn’t letting go.