Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
AVA
I wake to the soft glow of morning light filtering through Liam’s curtains, the weight of his arm across my back cocooning us in warmth. For a moment, I lie perfectly still, my cheek pressed against the solid muscle of his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear.
Christmas morning.
The realization sends a flutter through me, and for half a second, I wonder if the last two days were a dream.
But they weren’t. Ever since that first night together after the dance, we’ve barely come up for air.
We haven’t left the house, haven’t wanted to.
It’s been nothing but stolen kisses in every corner, tangled limbs between the sheets and our hands learning each other, over and over.
Every hour since that night, we’ve been wrapped up in each other like the world outside doesn’t exist.
Liam shifts, his arm tightening around my waist, pulling me closer with a sleepy groan that rumbles deep in his chest.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly, deliciously rough with sleep.
I tip my head back to look at him. His hair is a complete mess, sticking up in every direction, and his turquoise eyes are heavy-lidded but bright, crinkling at the corners when he catches me staring.
“You’re staring, Reynolds,” he teases, his lips curving.
“Can you blame me?” I whisper, tracing a lazy circle over his bare chest. “This view is better than any present under the tree.”
He grins and kisses me, slow and unhurried, his hand sliding into my hair. It’s sweet and sleepy, and somehow even more intimate than last night’s wild urgency. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.
“I could get used to this,” he says softly.
My heart does a ridiculous flip. “You’d better,” I breathe, kissing him once more before reluctantly rolling out of bed. “But first, coffee. I need caffeine before we start tackling Christmas morning traditions.”
An hour later, we’re in the kitchen, Liam wearing nothing but sweatpants as he flips pancakes while I sip coffee and try very hard not to ogle him.
“Stop staring at my ass,” he says without turning, a smirk in his voice.
“Stop having an ass that looks like that,” I shoot back, because honestly what else am I supposed to do when he walks around here in sweats that fit like that.
He laughs, and it’s so easy, so natural, that I almost forget how complicated things felt only three days ago.
After breakfast, we exchange gifts. Mine to him is a custom leather strap for his camera embossed with his initials. His to me is a framed black-and-white photo he secretly took during the snowman contest—me mid-laugh, my head tilted back, pure joy on my face.
“Liam,” I whisper, my throat tight.
“I wanted you to see yourself the way I see you,” he says simply. “And it’s a memory of us that I never want you to forget.”
“How could I?” My eyes blur with tears. I kiss him until neither of us can breathe.
Later, curled up on the couch under a blanket, we FaceTime our families to wish them a merry Christmas. His mom immediately narrows her eyes when she notices Liam absentmindedly playing with my hair. “You two look awfully cozy,” she says, a knowing lilt in her voice.
Liam’s sister squeals so loudly we both flinch. “Finally! You guys are finally together!” she screams, while his mom chimes in next to her, “We’ve been waiting for this for years!”
I laugh until my stomach hurts as his family descends into chaos, peppering us with questions about how it happened, who made the first move, and when they get to see us in person as a real couple.
When we finally hang up, breathless and flushed, Liam tugs me close, his lips brushing my temple.
“Well,” he says wryly, “no going back now.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Did you want to go back?”
His answer is a searing kiss that leaves me winded. “Never,” he whispers against my mouth. “Not ever. I love you,” he blurts, his voice shaking but certain.
I freeze, my eyes locked on his, my breath catching audibly. “Say it again,” I demand softly, like I’m terrified I imagined it.
“I love you,” he repeats, even surer this time. “I think I always have.”
My hands cradle his face, my thumbs brushing over the apples of his warm cheeks. “God, Liam,” I breathe. “I’ve loved you for years. You’re my best friend, my home, my everything.”
The kiss that follows is slow and reverent, sealing the words between us like a vow. When we finally break apart, reality creeps back in. My stomach knots. “Liam…what happens now? I live in Boston, you’re here in Vermont, and your work takes you all over the world.”
He strokes my thigh, calm and certain. “We figure it out. If that means I spend more time in Boston, I will. If it means you come here on weekends, we’ll do that. I travel for shoots all the time, Ava…I don’t care where I am, as long as you’re there at the end of the day.”
“You’d really do that?” My voice trembles.
“I’d do anything for you,” he says without hesitation. “This isn’t temporary. I think I’ve made that pretty clear.”
I melt into him, my heart soaring. For the first time in years, the future doesn’t terrify me—it feels wide open and full of promise.
Later that day, as the sun sets, we bundle up and step outside. The town square is quiet, blanketed in fresh snow, glowing golden in the late afternoon light. It feels like the whole world is holding its breath just for us.
Liam pulls something from his pocket and holds it over my head. When I look up, I notice a small sprig of mistletoe. “Just in case,” he says with a grin, holding it above our heads.
I laugh, tears and joy tangling in my throat. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it,” he murmurs, lowering his head to kiss me, slow and deep.
And there, under the mistletoe, with snow falling softly around us, I know this is only the beginning of our forever.