Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Ava
The bell above the door jingles, snapping me out of my daydream. Elijah steps inside Books & Beans, and just like that, my heart forgets how to beat properly. He wears that confident smirk—half mischief, half intent. That look always means trouble. The good kind.
I’m shelving books when I feel him behind me. The world quiets, like the universe is holding its breath.
Then, without a word, he turns me around, his hands warm on my waist, pulling me into him. The air between us crackles. And before I can react, he kisses me. Right there in the middle of the shop. In front of customers. In front of everyone.
His lips are soft, familiar, and completely disarming.
The kiss starts gentle—a brush, a whisper—but when I gasp, he smiles against my mouth.
Then he deepens it, a teasing swipe of his tongue against my bottom lip.
My body reacts before my mind can catch up.
My hands find his chest, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.
The room fades. The chatter dims. It’s just him. Just us.
When he finally pulls back, his voice is low and sure.
“Hey, baby girl.”
My cheeks burn. I should be mortified. I’m not. I smile, caught somewhere between shy and smug.
For the first time , I want everyone to know: Elijah is mine, and I’m his.
Mia’s voice cuts through the haze. “Whoa. That was hot.”
Nicoletta elbows her, smirking. “He sure knows how to make an entrance.”
Elijah turns to them with a grin, then back to me. “What? Can’t a guy say hello to his girl?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Claimed me pretty publicly, huh? Should I start selling tickets next time?”
He winks. “Only if you promise to smile like that every time.”
I laugh. “Tempting. But you do realize you just made us the talk of the town, right?”
“Good.” He leans in, his voice a velvet promise. “Maybe I want everyone to know who owns your heart.”
I poke his chest. “Careful, I might start thinking you’re possessive.”
“Guilty as charged. You’re not getting away that easily.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Always.” He grins, taking my hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here before I start yelling declarations of love from the rooftop.”
“Lead the way, possessive man.”
“Anytime, baby girl.”
We step into the sunlight—warm, golden, gentle. Elijah’s fingers lace with mine, steady like he’s afraid to let go.
“So, Mr. Possessive,” I tease, nudging him. “What now? Follow me around all day or just mark your territory in more public places?”
He grins. “Oh, I’m just getting started. Might tattoo your name somewhere visible.”
I gasp, mock-offended. “Tattoo?”
He shrugs, half-serious, half-playful. “Obviously. So I never forget why I’m the luckiest guy alive.”
I shake my head, laughing. “Smooth talker. You’re dangerous.”
He pulls me closer, his voice dropping. “That’s because I’m absurdly, hopelessly, mad about you.”
He kisses my forehead, soft and sure.
I try to roll my eyes, but the warmth blooming in my chest won’t let me.
“Lucky me,” I murmur.
We walk slowly, the town a blur. Right now, it’s just us.
“Think everyone saw the kiss?” he asks, amusement in his voice. “Should I be worried about jealous challengers?”
I laugh. “Please. You basically lit up a neon sign that said MINE.”
He smirks. “Next time I’ll bring a blow horn.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously yours.” He dips in for a quick kiss. “Don’t forget it.”
I smile, but something tender tugs at the edges of my heart.
“Yes, sir,” I tease, and his eyes darken instantly.
“Baby girl.” He says it like a warning—low, deep.
I pause. “Sorry,” I whisper, lowering my head.
“Hey, don’t do that,” he says, his voice softening. “You never lower your head for me.”
“I… I thought you didn’t like that. I don’t want to upset you.”
His fingers curl gently under my chin, lifting my face until our eyes meet again.
“Mad at you?” he says, voice steady. “Ava, I could never be mad at you for being yourself. Especially not when you're playing with me.”
“But you sounded serious,” I murmur. “The way you said my pet name… it felt like a warning.”
“It wasn’t,” he says, brushing his thumb along my cheek. “It was a reminder. Because when you say things like that—‘Yes, sir’—you flip a switch in me. But not in a bad way.”
I blink, surprised. “Wait… you liked it?”
His gaze darkens, his grin slow and dangerous. “I loved it. But the second you looked down like I scared you? That stopped me cold.” He shakes his head. “You never have to be afraid of me. Not now, not ever.”
I swallow hard. “I guess I get stuck in my own head sometimes. Like if I say or do the wrong thing, you’ll pull away. Or leave.”
He steps closer, one hand on my waist, the other still holding my face. “Nothing about you could ever scare me away. I want it all—your fire, your softness, your fears. I want you.”
Tears sting, and I hate how exposed I feel. But he doesn’t flinch. He pulls me closer.
“I’ve been left before, Elijah,” I whisper. “I’ve been told I was too much. Or not enough. And whenever I started to believe in something… it disappeared.”
His forehead rests gently against mine. “Then let me be the one who stays. The one who proves you’re more than enough. I’m not loving you because I have to. I’m loving you because I can’t not love you.”
A tear slips down my cheek. He catches it with his thumb.
“Besides,” he adds with a smirk, “you’re stuck with me now. I kissed you in front of everyone. Mia’s probably printing Team Elijah stickers already.”
I laugh, watery but real. “God, I can hear her now. ‘Official Claimer of Hearts.’”
He kisses my temple. “Let her. I’ve got no shame. And if saying ‘Yes, sir’ ever makes you uncomfortable, we drop it. But if it’s something that empowers you? That feels fun for us? Then baby girl, I’m all in.”
I look up at him, heart aching, but lighter. “You’d really want those parts of me too? The messy ones I’m still figuring out?”
His eyes don’t flinch. “Especially those. That’s where the magic lives.”
I place a hand over his heart. “Okay,” I whisper. “Then I’ll try. But you’ll have to be patient.”
“I’ve waited four years, Ava.” He kisses my knuckles. “Patience is the easy part.”
“You really mean it?” My voice is small.
He cups my face in his hands. “Every damn word. I’m not going anywhere.”
He takes a breath, gaze fierce and tender. “Ava since the day I’ve met you, I’ve waited, hoped, watched you run circles around your own heart. And I never gave up. I never will.”
I smile, a little broken, a little healed. “Then let’s be messy together.”
“Messy. Chaotic. Ridiculous. And completely in love,” he says, pulling me into him again.
And just like that, I stop running from what we could be. I begin to believe in us.
Because with Elijah, it doesn’t feel like falling.
It feels like finally being caught.
I look at him—really look at him—and for the first time in forever, I let myself believe.
That maybe this time, it’s real.
That maybe this is the beginning of something I never thought I’d have or even deserved.
“Alright,” I say softly. “Let’s try.”
His smile is everything. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
And when he kisses me again—slow, certain, and entirely us—I know without a doubt:
This isn’t a dream.
It’s the start of something real.