4
AVA
I didn’t mean to end up in Liam’s kitchen again. Not like this.
But somehow, it kept happening with me here, him there, like we hadn’t completely blurred every line two people could blur.
He handed me a beer from the fridge, and I took it with a mumbled thanks, watching the way his fingers brushed mine. Even that small touch made something low in my stomach tighten.
“So,” he said, leaning back against the counter, beer in hand. “What are we doing?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Right now? Drinking.”
He gave me a look. “Ava.”
I took a long sip. “Fine. You want to talk about it?”
“Yeah. Because we keep pretending we don’t need to.”
He wasn’t wrong. After the night at my place, I thought we’d finally crossed into something more, but he didn’t say anything after. And neither did I.
“I
