Chapter 17 #2
“She’s always had a thing for me,” I say, my hand slipping over her shoulder and pulling her tighter. “I mean she’s watched all my games, knows I’m a future Hall of Famer, how can she not want to marry me?”
Avah elbows me in the ribs hard enough to make me cough. “Of course, it was his athleticism that drew me in,” Avah says with a teasing smile. “But it was his Boston charm that sealed the deal.”
“You know you bring it out of me,” I say, meaning it. She’s got a way to pull a line from me every single time. “I’ve never had this much fun arguing with anybody.”
“Is that why you came looking for me at Lucas and Hannah’s wedding?” she asks, her voice dripping with sweetness.
The table collectively perks up.
“This started at our wedding?” Hannah asks Avah, practically squealing.
Thinking back, it was more of a fight than a conversation. I sought her out to give her some of her own medicine that evening.
“Yes,” I answer before looking down at Avah. “Your eyes were especially blue that night.” I remember spotting her on the dancefloor, her eyes spitting fire in my direction as usual.
She sucks in a breath. “Well, none of your words that night had anything to do with my eyes.”
“Everyone knows I’m not that good with words, Snowflake.” I shrug. “That’s why I hit people with sticks for a living.”
“Mm,” she hides a small smile behind her glass as she takes a sip of her water. “By the time the gala came around, we had reached a point where it was clear we had to make a decision. Face what this is, or walk away.”
“And that’s when you proposed?” Lindgren blurts. “After the chaos at the gala? Wow, you really know how to pick a moment.”
I swallow, remembering that night and the decisions I made. I shouldn’t even have been in that bar, never mind at the bottom of that bottle. My teammates don’t know what happened, and I’m grateful Avah hasn’t told them. I haven’t really thought about it too much, but now I can’t help but wonder.
Why didn’t she tell anyone? Or call one of them?
Would I have been sitting here if it hadn’t been for that night?
More importantly, would I go back and change it if I could? Knowing the outcome now?
“He showed up at my doorstep,” Avah says, bending the truth enough to protect me. “We had coffee, and when it came down to it, there were a few truths we couldn’t ignore.”
She’s not spinning some kind of story now either, Avah’s sticking to the truth of our relationship.
“I knew she was my best bet,” I add easily. “So I had to ask her to marry me.”
We look at each other, the line between truth and pretend pretty blurry.
“And when did you find out?” Nikolai deadpans. We both look at EJ who suddenly wipes the worried expression from his face before tacking on a grin.
“I’ve always known he had a thing for her,” EJ says. “Why do you think I warned him back in Florida?”
Niko nods, picking up the bottle of champagne in front of him, opening it and popping the cork loudly.
“Well, whether we know how or why this happened, we’re here. So let’s celebrate,” he says simply, pouring a few glasses of champagne before passing it along the table. Lucas hands me one, and I take it from him.
Before thinking too hard, I set the glass down and pick up my water instead. Avah’s hand settles on my knee once again, this time giving me a small squeeze.
“To Declan and Avah,” Niko says as he stands. “None of us can deny the spark between you two. May it always burn and only grow from here until eternity.”
He toasts in Russian, while the rest of the table lifts their glasses to us in cheers. Something warm settles in my chest. My teammates may not know everything that’s going on, but there’s no lack of support.
“Are you okay?” Avah asks, leaning in slightly.
I hum in agreement, my gaze catching the diamond ring on her finger. Protective instinct curls inside me knowing it marks her as mine.
“Why haven’t you told anyone about that night you picked me up?” I ask, suddenly needing to know. We’ve always sparred, throwing daggers at each other. If she wanted to, she could’ve used that night as a real deathblow.
Her eyes soften as she looks at me, not with sympathy but with…something else. “Because that’s not what you needed from me,” she says simply.
I’m not sure why she thought I needed anything from her, but her words lodge in my chest.
A flash goes off, breaking through the moment.
“Sorry, I just need a few pictures.” A photographer waves apologetically, snapping shots of the table. “Can we get one with the bride and groom?” she asks, standing across from us and gesturing for us to lean closer together.
“And maybe one over there,” she says pointing to the giant windows.
Avah gives me a reassuring smile as we both get up and oblige the photographer. A part of me hates that we have to do this. There’s a real connection between us on some level. For some reason the idea of Avah being this close to me because she has to, doesn’t sit right with me.
“How about a kiss?” the photographer asks. “That’ll be the last one, I promise.”
My hands circle her waist with ease, as she steps into me. “Care to repeat the worst kiss you ever had?” I murmur, low enough for only her to hear.
Her eyes widen and lighten with amusement, sending a spark through me.
“Well, in my opinion we can only go up from here,” she says, her hands sliding up my chest and clasping my lapels. The little tug knocks the air right out of me. She’s smaller than me, delicate even, and yet she has the ability to ground me.
This should be easy. I’ve kissed a lot of women before, and yet this is different. This kiss will be quick, while everyone is watching. Not to mention the fact that it’s being documented for the world to see.
“I’m sure we can do a little better,” I say, leaning down and pressing my lips against hers for the second time today.
I tell myself to keep it light and quick. But the second her soft lips touch mine, my control threatens to slip. She exhales a quiet sigh, a sound that hits me harder than it should. She pulls me a little closer, erasing the inch of space I left between us.
The camera clicks rapidly beside us, but all I can focus on is her heartbeat pressed to my chest. All I feel is the way she fits against me, like maybe this isn’t staged after all.
I want more of this. And I don’t want to admit what that says about me.
Avah moves back first, her cheeks flushed. I clear my throat, forcing the tension out of my body before I do something stupid—like pull her back in and kiss her properly.
“Better?” I ask, my voice rougher than I intended, searching her eyes for proof that I’m not the only one feeling the pull between us.
“Mm, I’ll have to think about it,” she says with a teasing smile. There’s something in her gaze I latch onto…something soft and questioning, like maybe she really felt it too.
“You do that, Snowflake.”
Because I know I will. Whether that’s a good thing or not…we’ll just have to wait and see.