Chapter 51
FIFTY-ONE
Goddamn, she was sexy when she was angry at me. Honestly, she looked like she wanted to strangle me.
Fair enough. I probably deserved that.
Ava stood in the middle of the barn, her arms crossed over her chest, her chin lifted in defiance like she was trying to prove she was strong enough for whatever I’d come here to say. She wouldn’t be broken by me, even if the tear stains on her cheeks gave away that I’d already hurt her horribly.
“Well?” she said. “Did you just come here to stare or do you have something to say?”
Fuck, I loved her so much. Her sass, her fire, everything about her.
I stayed in the doorway. Snow swirled around me, the wind cutting through my jacket, but I barely felt it. All I could feel was her—the pull of her, the gravity that had been dragging me toward this moment since the second I’d walked away from her.
“I have something to say.”
“Then say it and leave. Some of us have better things to do than stand in a freezing barn waiting for you to find your words.”
I ran a hand through my hair, scattering snow. “I’m an idiot.”
“Finally, something we agree on.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled. This was the Ava I’d fallen for. Sharp and unafraid and absolutely unwilling to make anything easy for me.
“I lied to you,” I said. “Everything I said that night—about the chase, about getting restless, about you being just an arrangement—it was all bullshit.”
“I know.”
That stopped me. “You know?”
“Of course I know.” She rolled her eyes, but her voice cracked on the edges. “You’re a terrible liar, Liam. You always have been. I knew you were lying when you said it. I just couldn’t figure out why you’d say it anyway.”
“Because I’m an idiot.”
“You mentioned that.”
“It bears repeating.” I took a breath. “I saw my dad. Before I ended things. He got in my head, told me for the millionth time that I was just like him, that I’d inevitably hurt you the way he hurt my mom. And I believed him. I thought leaving you was the noble thing to do.”
“Noble.” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You broke my heart to be noble?”
“I broke your heart because I was a coward.”
She didn’t argue. Instead, she stood there, waiting, her arms still crossed but her shoulders slightly less rigid than before.
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper I’d been holding on to since last night.
My hands were shaking, which was ridiculous.
I’d taken hits on the ice that would’ve sent most people to the hospital.
But standing here, holding this crumpled list, I’d never been more terrified in my life.
“You had a list,” I said.
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“The bucket list. The one you made after Chris.” I held up the paper. “You made a list of things you wanted to experience. Things you’d been too scared to ask for.”
“I know what my list was.” Her eyes narrowed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I made one too.” I swallowed hard. “For the rest of our life.”
She stared at me, then she uncrossed her arms, curiosity winning out over anger. It was enough to encourage me to keep going, so I unfolded the paper with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling.
“Number one. Check your tire pressure and oil every month so I never have to worry about you being stranded on the side of the road.”
Her lips parted and her eyes widened slightly. “That’s not romantic,” she said, but her voice had lost the edge it carried earlier. “That’s just practical.”
“I know.” I looked down and read the next one. “Number two. Be the guy waiting at the curb every single week to pick you up after your dance classes.”
She bit her lip. I kept going.
“Number three. Memorize your specific grocery list—including the exact brand of oat milk you like—so I can restock the fridge without you asking.”
“You know I prefer oat milk?”
“Oatly, to be specific. You think it froths better.”
She blinked, caught off guard. Good.
“Number four. Be the one who runs to the store for Gatorade and soup when you have the flu.”
“That’s just basic human decency.”
“That’s me wanting to take care of you. There’s a difference.”
She swiped at her eyes, but she didn’t tell me to stop.
“Number five. Attend every awkward work function or distant cousin’s wedding as your permanent date, just so I can hold your hand under the table.”
“You hate weddings.”
“I hate being anywhere you’re not more.”
She made a sound that sounded like half laugh, half sob.
“Number six. Spend an entire Saturday afternoon building that ‘impossible’ piece of furniture you bought for our house.”
“Our house?” she whispered.
I held her gaze. “Our house.” Looking back down at my list, I continued. “Number seven. Make sure your coffee is made exactly how you like it and ready for you as soon as you wake up.”
“What if I wake up before you?”
“I’ll set my alarm for when yours goes off. I want to be the one who makes it for you. Every morning. For the rest of our lives.”
Tears were streaming silently down her face now, but she was also smiling, and I didn’t know what to do with that combination except keep going.
“Number eight. Sit through every season of your favorite reality show without complaining, just because I like being near you.”
“You hate reality TV.”
“Yeah, well, I’m willing to make sacrifices if it means I get to keep you.” My voice broke slightly because I was so desperate to close the distance between us and wrap her up in my arms again, but I couldn’t do that until I finished reading her this list.
“Number nine. Finally be the guy who shows up to your family dinners as your boyfriend, not just your brother’s best friend.”
“My parents already love you.”
“I want them to love me as yours.”
She sucked in a breath.
“Number ten. Fold laundry with you while we talk about how our days went.”
“That’s so boring,” she said, but her voice cracked.
“That’s the point. I want the boring stuff, Ava. I want all of it. Every single mundane thing, every high, every low. I want them all.” I looked back down at my list. “Number eleven. Be your designated driver for every night out for the next fifty years, so you always have a safe way home.”
“Fifty years is a long time.”
“Not long enough.”
I looked at the paper again. Last one.
“Number twelve.” My voice cracked. “Hold your hand and let you scream at me as you bring our future babies into the world.”
The barn went completely silent except for the wind and the sound of both of us trying to breathe.
I lowered the paper.
“I made a list for the rest of my life,” I said. “But I can only check it off with you. This list isn’t for anyone else.”
She stood there, tears streaming down her face, and I waited. I’d said everything I could say. Laid myself bare in a way I’d never done before with anyone. If she told me to leave now, I would. I’d spend the rest of my life regretting it, but I would go.
“That’s a stupid list,” she finally said.
My heart stopped.
“Tire pressure? Folding laundry?” She took a step toward me. “Those aren’t romantic, Liam. Those are just life.”
“I know.” I could barely breathe. “That was the point.”
“You didn’t even include anything sexy. My list was way better.”
A laugh escaped me—broken and full of more hope than I had any right to feel. “I can add items. It doesn’t have to be finished.”
“It better not be.” She was close now, close enough that I could reach out and touch her. I didn’t. Not yet. “If I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, I expect regular updates.”
The rest of my life.
“Ava.” Her name came out like a prayer.
“I’m still mad at you.” But she was stepping closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her breath. “I’m so mad I could kill you.”
“I know.”
“You broke my heart.”
“I know.”
“You made me feel like I wasn’t enough.”
“I know. And I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that’s not true. If you let me.”
She looked up at me, her eyes still wet, her expression caught somewhere between fury and hope.
“Read me number twelve again.”
My heart pounded.
“Hold your hand and let you scream at me as you bring our future babies into the world.”
She reached up and grabbed the front of my jacket, pulling me down until our foreheads touched.
“You want babies with me?”
“I want everything with you.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Marriage. Kids. The whole thing. I want to spend the rest of my life doing every mundane, boring, beautiful thing on that list with you.”
“That sounds a lot like a proposal.”
“It’s a promise. The proposal comes later. When I’ve earned it.”
“You have a lot of groveling to do first.” But she was almost smiling now. “Years of groveling. Possibly decades.”
“I’ll grovel for as long as it takes.”
“Good.” She pulled me down the rest of the way and kissed me.
It tasted like tears and forgiveness and the beginning of my entire future. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, and she melted against me like she’d been waiting for this moment as desperately as I had.
When we broke apart, I kept my forehead pressed to hers. “I love you,” I said. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. I love you so much.”
She hit my chest with her fist—not hard, but hard enough to make her point.
“You’re an idiot.”
“I know.”
“A complete and total idiot.”
“I know.”
“If you ever pull something like this again, I will actually kill you. And Drew will help me hide the body.”
“He already threatened me.”
She laughed and gifted me with that smile—the one that was my sun. This was what I’d almost thrown away. I’d never been more grateful for second chances as I was right this minute.
“I love you too,” she whispered against my lips before she kissed me again.
And everything was right in the world once more.