Chapter 122

Ava

The first thing I became aware of as I drifted back to consciousness was the unforgiving crick in my neck and the numb tingling in my legs from having fallen asleep in an awkward position. The second thing I noticed was the excruciating pain in my lower back, right where a spring in the couch had been jutting into me all night.

Grimacing, I cracked one eye open—only to be greeted by the sight of Ophelia and Leonard sprawled out on the loveseat opposite me, their limbs tangled in a way that would surely leave them just as stiff and sore as I was.

A soft snore then drew my gaze to my right, where Chris lay slumped against the armrest of the sofa. His tousled hair fell across his forehead in a way that made my fingers itch with the urge to brush it back, his chest rising and falling gently.

Despite the less-than-ideal sleeping conditions, he looked almost boyishly handsome like this, the worry lines that had begun creasing his brow more and more as of late smoothed away by the blissful escape of slumber.

Carefully climbing out from the pile of plush cushions on the sofa, I rose to my feet with a soft groan and arched my back in a stretch as my vertebrae realigned with a series of satisfying pops.

A glance at the clock on the mantel told me it was just after nine in the morning—still relatively early given how late we had all been up last night, although the sun was already streaming in through the curtains.

My gaze flickered back to the others, taking in their peaceful expressions for a moment. After the harrowing events of the previous night, they could surely use all the rest they could get; although, it was certainly a sour reminder of that fact that I was no longer in my twenties.

Back then, my friends and I would have fallen asleep just about anywhere after a night of drinking and dancing. Not now, though. Now, I knew I’d be nursing this hangover and these sore joints for at least two days.

Still, I couldn’t help but smirk at the memory of last night; despite the horrible end to the night with the search party and the discovery of the body, it had been a fun night leading up to that point. I felt twenty-two again, my skin still flushed from that spontaneous skinny dip in the cave.

With a quiet sigh, I padded into the kitchen with the intent to put the coffee on and make something simple yet sweet for breakfast—something to ease everyone’s headaches when they eventually woke up.

As I moved around the kitchen, pulling out the coffee grounds and setting the pot to brew, my mind began to drift. I kept replaying the grim scene at the ravine in vivid detail; that poor Omega—she had suffered such an unimaginable fate.

Just when her life had been looking up, too. She had been working in the cafe lately, and I had often seen her walking around town with a smile on her face as she chatted excitedly with her friends.

And now…

A shudder rippled through me at the thought of what she must have gone through in her final moments. The fear, the agony, the stomach-twisting weightlessness of a long fall. Was it really possible that Olivia had pushed her? And if so, why did she do it? I didn’t want to believe that Olivia could do such a thing, but… At this point, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a pair of strong arms suddenly circled my waist from behind. My breath caught in my throat as a solid chest pressed against my back, the warmth of Chris’s body seeping through the thin material of my camisole.

“Morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing the tip of my ear. “Need some help?”

I turned my head slightly to peer at him over my shoulder, feeling myself bristle at his closeness. “Chris—” I began to tell him that we shouldn’t be so intimate, but the words died on my lips. No, I thought to myself. No, this is… nice.

Chris let out a low huff, almost as though reading my mind. “They’re still sleeping, you know,” he whispered. “We could… I miss you, Ava. I miss you.”

A small sigh escaped my lips as I turned fully in his arms, staring up at him through the veil of my lashes. “I miss you too,” I whispered. “But we can’t…”

Chris narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, his lips now moving to graze across my neck. “Why not?” he asked in a husky voice. “Ava, I—”

“We… We shouldn’t.” I shuddered beneath his touch, the sensation of his fingers trailing up my spine practically setting me on fire. I opened my mouth to protest again, but… I couldn’t say the words.

Because truthfully, I wanted this. I missed him more than anything.

Finally, Chris leaned back just enough to look at me, our faces so close we were breathing the same air.

For an endless moment, we simply stood there, our gazes locked—a silent challenge, a question, a plea. Then, without warning, it was as if an invisible tether snapped between us, that final thread of restraint fraying until it unraveled completely.

Surging forward, I crushed my mouth against his in a searing kiss that seemed to suck all of the air out of my lungs. Chris responded with equal fervor, his hands burying themselves in my hair as he angled my head to allow deeper exploration, our tongues tangling and swirling around one another.

“Chris…”

I clung to him desperately as his lips trailed down my jaw, my fingers raking through the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck as our bodies melted together. Every brush of his skin against mine sent streams of liquid fire through my veins, every touch of his tongue was coated with ice, making me equal parts hot and cold.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny voice whispered that this was reckless, dangerous—that we should stop before we went too far. But that voice was quickly drowned out by the thunderous pounding of my heart, the ragged gasps that mingled between us as Chris hoisted me up onto the kitchen counter.

With a sweep of his arm, he shoved everything on the counter aside. Vaguely, I registered the sound of appliances and dishes clattering against the granite, but I couldn’t bring myself to care—not when Chris’s hands were pushing up the fabric of my shirt to grope at my breasts, not when his mouth was trailing a blazing path of fire along my throat.

I arched into his touch with a breathy whimper, my fingers fumbling at the buttons of his shirt as I tried to remove the thin barrier of fabric between us. Just as the garment fell open, however, exposing the taut muscles of his chest, a sudden commotion from the living room had us freezing in our tracks.

“Bloody hell, what was that racket?” came Ophelia’s groggy voice, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Chris and I exchanged a wide-eyed look of panic, hastily smoothing our rumpled clothing. I leaped down from the counter, quickly turning to pretend to be busying myself with the coffee pot while I was really buttoning my pants back up.

Just milliseconds after we managed to right ourselves, Leonard and Ophelia appeared in the doorway with confused looks on their tired faces. “What are you two—”

“Coffee, anyone?” I cooed, whirling around with a tray of mugs in my hands.