Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Ava
“Okay.” Mia drops her bag on the counter and points a finger at me, suspiciously gleeful. “You’re smiling. Not the polite bookstore-owner smile. The I-got-someone’s-hands-on-my-body smile.”
I nearly choke on my tea. “Mia!”
“What? It’s true!” she says, turning to Laura for backup. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Laura raises a brow, smirking. “She’s not wrong. You’ve got that freshly-devoured glow.”
“Oh my god.” I bury my face in my hands. “Can’t a girl just have a good hair day?”
“Sure,” Mia says sweetly. “If the good hair day also comes with pancakes and an overnight bag.”
I freeze.
Mia gasps. “He was there!”
Laura leans on the counter, eyes gleaming. “You spent the night with Elijah?”
I clear my throat. “It’s not what you think.”
“Oh, come on,” Laura says. “You’ve been pining over him for, like, a decade. Did he finally kiss you in the rain? Wait—don’t tell me. It was a post-panic attack comfort kiss. Or maybe—”
“He kissed me in the bookstore,” I admit, cheeks heating. “In front of everyone. And it's not a decade… just… four years.” I say biting my lower lip
Both of them squeal.
“You’re kidding.” Laura clutches her chest. “Like—claimed you?”
“Full-on, no-one-else-exists-in-the-room kind of kiss,” I mutter, unable to stop the grin tugging at my mouth.
“FINALLY,” Laura says, spinning in place.
I laugh, feeling a little breathless. “It’s scary, you know. Letting him in.”
“Of course it is,” Laura says gently. “But that man has been looking at you like you hung the stars since the minute he walked into your life. If anyone’s earned the right to be let in, it’s him.”
Mia nods. “And if he ever breaks your heart, we know where he works and we know how to set things on fire.”
I snort. “Noted.”
“Okay so, tonight is girls night to celebrate.” Mia says, staring at me with her. Don't you dare say no. And I just nod.
But deep down, I know they’re right. Elijah isn’t just someone I like. He’s someone who sees me—even the broken, raw pieces I usually hide.
And maybe, just maybe, I’m ready to let myself be seen.
I stare at my reflection, swipe on one last coat of lip gloss, and try not to overthink this top. It’s not revealing… but it is flattering. Maybe even a little flirty. Mia picked it out with zero subtlety and a wink and screamed, “Elijah will suffer if he sees you in this.”
But tonight’s not about him. It’s about me and my girls. About finally breathing without feeling like the weight of the world is pressing against my chest.
Still, I grab my phone and text him.
Me: Going out with Mia & Laura. Girls night. I’ll try not to miss you the whole time ??
The typing bubbles pop up, disappear, then come back again.
Elijah_Babe: You better. But if you don’t, I won’t be mad. Be safe, Baby Girl.
I grin like an idiot. God, I’m in trouble with this man.
Two hours later, the bar is loud, the lights are low, and Mia is three cocktails deep into her mission to get us all dancing. I’m laughing more than I have in weeks, my cheeks hurt, and Laura just talked me into doing a tequila shot with her.
That’s when I feel it. A shift.
You know how sometimes the air changes? Like your body knows who just walked into the room before your eyes even register it?
I turn toward the entrance and—yeah. There he is. Elijah.
Standing just inside the bar, laughing at something Asher says, wearing that black fitted shirt that should be illegal. His eyes sweep the room—and then land right on me.
His smile changes. Softer. Possessive. Like he’s surprised and not at all sorry to see me.
“Asher’s here too,” Mia murmurs behind me. “Should we leave you two to reenact a rom-com meet-cute?”
“Shut up,” I whisper, trying not to look too eager. Or giddy. Or like I’ve been scanning the bar for him since we got here.
But it’s too late. Elijah’s already making his way over.
He doesn’t walk—he stalks. Like gravity bends a little around him.
“Hey baby girl,” he says when he reaches me, voice lower than necessary.
“Hey, babe” I reply, suddenly breathless for no logical reason. “What are you doing here?”
“Asher dragged me out. Said I was brooding again.”
“You were.”
His smirk turns fond. “You calling me out, Baby Girl?”
I shrug, unable to help the smile tugging at my lips. “Maybe.”
He leans in, speaking close to my ear so only I can hear him. “You look good enough to ruin tonight. And don't you think I didn't hear the babe thing. I love it by the way.”
My breath catches.
“Elijah…”
“I’m just saying,” he murmurs, brushing a hand down my arm. “If you disappear with me for five minutes, I won’t complain.”
I swat him gently in the chest, laughing.
“You’re incorrigible,” I say.
“And you love it.”
I do. God help me, I do.
But Mia’s waving from the bar and Asher is now talking to Laura—who looks surprisingly intrigued—so I glance back up at Elijah and say, “Stay a while?”
His eyes soften. “You want me to?”
“Yeah. I do.”
And just like that, the night feels like something more. Something ours.
***
The music pulses behind us, bass thudding through the walls like a second heartbeat. The hallway outside the bar’s restrooms is dim and almost empty, a quiet pocket carved out from the chaos inside.
Elijah’s hand is warm on my lower back as we step into the space, his presence solid beside me. The second the door swings shut behind us, the noise muffles—and so does everything else.
“I need a minute,” I murmur, turning toward him.
“Me too,” he says, voice low, gaze steady on mine. “You okay?”
I nod, but it’s automatic. The kind of nod you give when you’re not sure what else to do with your face.
Because really… no. I’m not okay. I’m buzzing. Nervous. Giddy. I feel like I’ve been caught mid-fall, but I’m not scared of hitting the ground anymore. Not if he’s the one catching me.
“I couldn’t stop watching you,” he says, his thumb brushing the bare skin just above my waistband. “Every time you laughed, it was like I forgot how to breathe.”
My heart lurches.
“Eli…” I breathe his name like it’s the only truth I know. “I don’t know what you see in me.”
His brows furrow, eyes dark and intent. “Everything. I see everything. I see you trying to shrink yourself when you should take up the whole damn room. I see the way you care, how fiercely you protect the people you love. I see the way you look at me like I’m something worth holding onto—when it’s me who’s been holding onto you for four damn years. ”
I blink, startled. “That long huh?”
He nods, stepping closer, like the air between us is too much. “Yeah, Ava. Since the day I helped you open your bookstore door and saw that spark in your eyes. You asked me what kind of ink I’d give a fictional character, and I knew right then—you were going to ruin me.”
I laugh—quiet and shaky—and press my forehead to his chest. He wraps his arms around me without hesitation, anchoring me to something steady.
“You didn’t seem ruined,” I murmur.
“I am. But the good kind. The kind that rebuilds you better.”
His lips brush the top of my head, then lower to my temple. “You want to get out of here?”
I look up at him, and the answer is so easy.
“Yes,” I whisper. “With you? Always.”
He slips his hand into mine, fingers curling tightly around mine like a lifeline. We weave back through the crowd, eyes occasionally meeting with that secret smile that says we’re stealing away from everything else for just a little while.
Outside, the cool night air feels like a balm, crisp and clean. Elijah pulls me close under the glow of the streetlamp, his breath warm against my cheek.
“Where to?” I ask, heart hammering in a way that’s both exciting and calm.
“Your place?” he says simply, voice low and sure.
I nod, and we walk in silence, the city around us fading until it’s just the two of us.
At my apartment, Elijah pauses, looking at me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen.
We move inside, the world shrinking to soft touches and whispered words. Elijah doesn’t push—he’s patient, adoring, every motion a prayer for my comfort and pleasure.
Time blurs as he traces the lines of my body, lips leaving trails of heat and tenderness, his hands gentle yet sure.
I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the sensation of being seen, cherished, wanted—not rushed or pressured, just loved.
The night stretches around us, a cocoon of softness and slow discovery.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel safe enough to let go.
The night settles deep around us, but something stirs inside me—a quiet, daring urge that I haven’t let myself feel in a long time. Elijah’s lips trail down my neck, his breath hot and steady, and suddenly I want more than just to be touched. I want to taste him.
I shift slightly, looking up at him with a hesitant smile. His eyes meet mine, dark and curious.
“Can I?” I whisper, my voice barely a breath.
He nods, fingers tangling in my hair, giving me permission without a word.
I lean in, letting my lips brush against his skin—soft, warm, intoxicating. I trace the curve of his jaw, feeling the subtle roughness of his stubble beneath my tongue.
His breath hitches, and he closes his eyes, leaning into me like I’m the only thing keeping him grounded.
I move slower now, exploring, tasting every inch I can reach. It’s not about hurry or urgency—it’s about connection, about worshiping him the way he worships me.
His hands rest on my hips, steadying me, and I feel the pulse of him beneath my lips.
We’re silent except for the soft sounds of our breaths and the quiet thump of our hearts syncing together.
In that moment, nothing else matters—just the two of us, learning each other in the slowest, sweetest way.
I trail my lips lower, letting a slow, teasing kiss brush against the curve of his neck. Elijah’s breath catches, a deep, low sound vibrating through him. My hands slide beneath his shirt, fingertips pressing into the hot skin of his back as I pull him closer.