Loving the enemy

Chapter 20

Ava’s pov

I jumped when someone knocked on the door, my towel slipping before I grabbed it tighter.

“Ava?” Liam’s voice came through the wood, smooth and calm. “You’ve been in there a while.”

Hearing him so close made my heart race. I swallowed, holding the towel like it could protect me. My voice shook when I answered, barely loud enough.

“One second.”

But before I could breathe, the handle turned.

“Liam—” I tried to stop him, but it was too late.

The door opened, and steam rushed out into the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, tall, his shirt half-unbuttoned like he’d been getting ready for bed. His eyes went straight to me and froze there.

I stood still, clutching the towel against my chest. Water slid down my skin, making me feel even more exposed.

He didn’t speak right away. His eyes slowly moved from my wet hair down to my bare legs, the towel the only thing between us. The silence grew heavy, hotter than the steam around us.

“You didn’t answer right away,” he finally said, his voice low and rough, like he was holding something back.

“I—I said one second,” I whispered, pressing my back to the cold tile. My heart pounded.

He stepped inside and closed the door, the click of the lock making my stomach drop.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, eyes fixed on me. “Is it me, Ava? Or something else?”

I couldn’t answer. My throat was too tight.

For a moment, he just studied my face. Then he stepped back, opened the door, and left without another word.

The breath I had been holding rushed out. My legs felt weak as I hugged the towel tighter.

I stood in the steam for a long moment before I forced myself to get dressed. I slipped into simple pajamas, modest and plain.

When I finally opened the bathroom door, the bedroom was dim, with the lamp on the bed stand switched on. Liam was already on the bed, leaning back against the headboard like he owned the place. Which, technically, he did.

His eyes followed me as I crossed the room. “Took your time,” he said lazily.

I ignored the flush on my neck and climbed into the other side of the bed, keeping a careful distance. The mattress dipped slightly under my weight, the space between us feeling smaller than it looked.

For a while, there was only silence, the faint ticking of the clock filling the air.

“Tell me about you,” he said suddenly.

My heart skipped. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” he said smoothly, his voice curious. “You keep avoiding the question. You’ve told me what kind of man I was, but what about you? Who were you before all this?”

I let out a short, nervous laugh. “There’s not much to tell.”

He gave me a look. “That’s a lie.”

“It’s not,” I said quickly.

“It is,” he said with a faint smirk, moving a little closer. “You expect me to believe a woman like you just showed up in my life out of nowhere? You’re sharp, brave, too stubborn to be ordinary.”

My face warmed. “You don’t know me as well as you think.”

“Don’t I?” His voice dropped, softer now. “Because every time you look at me, it feels like there’s something you’re hiding. And I want to know what it is.”

I swallowed, trying to stay calm. “I grew up normal. Small town. Nothing special.”

“Normal,” he repeated, clearly not buying it. “And now you’re here, married to me. That doesn’t sound very normal.”

I looked away before he could see the panic in my eyes.

He leaned back a little, studying me. “So,” he said with a slow grin, “are you always this quiet? Or do I just make you nervous?”

I shot him a look. “Maybe I’m just tired.”

His grin widened. “Tired, or trying not to think about the fact that I’m lying right next to you?”

I rolled my eyes, my cheeks warm. “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

“Not sure,” he said, turning on his side, closer now. “Just observant. You’re so tense, Ava. You keep pretending you’re calm, but I can hear your heartbeat from here.”

I pulled the blanket up to my chest. “Maybe you’re imagining things.”

He chuckled lowly. “Trust me, I’m not.”

My pulse jumped.

Trying to change the subject, I said, “Were you always this annoying?”

That earned me a grin. “Probably worse. You would know better than anyone.”

I bit my lip, staring at the ceiling. “You really don’t remember… anything? About us?”

His expression shifted, just slightly, his eyes searching mine. “No,” he admitted softly. “But I know how I feel when I look at you.”

I swallowed, suddenly at a loss for words.

“Which is?” I asked, almost a whisper.

He leaned in just a bit, his smile turning slow. “Drawn. Curious. Hungry, maybe.”

My breath caught. “Hungry?”

“For answers,” he teased, though his gaze dropped to my mouth. “And maybe for something else.”

“What will that be?” I asked, raising my brows. He ignored my question of course.

“You’re nervous.”

I stiffened, turning my head toward him. “I’m not.”

His mouth curved into a slow grin. “You are. I can feel it from here.” He shifted, propping himself on one elbow, closer now. “You’re my wife, Ava. We’ve shared this bed before. Why are you acting like this is our first time?”

My throat tightened. I forced a smile. “Maybe I just forgot.”

He studied me, that knowing look in his eyes that always made me feel seen in ways I didn’t want to be. “Then let me remind you.”

The words sank into me, heavy, dangerous.

He leaned in slightly, his tone a bit darker. “Tell me, Ava. Do you lie awake at night, wondering what it would feel like if I touched you again?”

My breath hitched. “Liam—”

His smirk deepened, sharp and teasing. “Because I do. I wonder if your skin would shiver under my hands… if your lips would taste as sweet as I have always imagined.”

My whole body flushed hot, “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.” His voice dropped, husky, wrapping around me like velvet. “Tell me you don’t want me right now. Look me in the eye and say it.”

I opened my mouth—but no sound came out. Because it would have been a lie.

The silence was its own confession.

Something changed between us, something impossible to ignore.

Before I could stop myself, my eyes dropped to his lips.

He noticed.

A slow, teasing smile curved across his face as he stepped closer, his hand sliding behind my neck, his thumb brushing my jaw.

“There it is,” he said softly. “That look. You want me to kiss you so badly, it’s driving you crazy.”

I should’ve pulled away. I should’ve remembered why I was here.

But I didn’t. My body moved before my mind could stop it, leaning in.

When his lips finally met mine, everything else disappeared.

It wasn’t soft—it was fierce, hungry. Weeks of tension and everything we’d been holding back poured into that kiss.

My fingers gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as our breaths mixed. Every thought of revenge, every lie I’d told, burned away in the heat of it.

For the first time since all this started, I wasn’t faking it.

I wanted him.

And I gave in.