Chapter 26—The Night Everything Changed

Noah's POV

I should've said no. Should've stepped back. Should've told her we'd talk tomorrow. Should've pretended I wasn't already burning from the inside out.

But then Ava looked at me.

And everything inside me shattered.

Her eyes weren't just soft. They pleaded. Her lips parted like she couldn't find her next breath. Like I was already stealing it.

"Noah..." Her voice cracked through me like a match to gasoline. "Will you come upstairs with me?"

My stomach dropped.

And every single thread of self-control I had snapped like wet string.

"Ava," I said, my voice embarrassingly quiet, "are you sure?"

She nodded, so certain it made my heart stumble.

"Yeah. I am."

That was it. The end of me.

I followed her up the stairs like I was moving in a dream—no, like I was being pulled by something bigger than want. Her back moved in front of me, shoulder blades brushing her sweater, her ankle peeking with each step.

My heartbeat was so loud I was scared she could hear it.

She didn't look back. She didn't have to. I was already hers.

When we stepped into her room, the door clicked shut behind us—soft, final. Like a secret sealed behind wood and breath and skin.

She turned to me. And I swear I forgot how to move.

Her expression was quiet. Glowing. Like she was choosing me without needing to say it.

Her breathing. Her presence. The gravity in her eyes—it pulled me in.

"If I'm too close, tell me," I whispered, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

She leaned into my hand like she belonged there.

"You're not too close."

Something in my chest cracked—like a fault line finally splitting wide.

I kissed her.

Soft, terrified, testing. My lips barely brushed hers, but the world flipped under me.

Her hands slid up the front of my shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like she couldn't take the space between us—and that was all it took.

I deepened the kiss, my hand sliding to her waist, guiding her closer until her chest pressed to mine, hear blooming everywhere we touched. My head spun. My body shook.

I didn't mean to lift her. But I did.

Her gasp hit my lips like fire, and when I felt her smile—that soft, mischievous thrill that said she knew exactly what she was doing to me—I could've dropped to my knees.

She pulled away just enough to whisper, "I'm a little nervous."

I cupped her cheek gently, meeting her eyes. "Are you nervous because of me?"

She shook her head. "No. Not because of you."

I had to shut my eyes for a second. That relief hit me like a wave to the chest.

"Are you sure you want this?" I asked. "With me?"

Her hands slid to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair. Her voice was low, almost a promise.

"I've never been more sure."

My breath stuttered. And then I kissed her again—deeper this time. Like I needed to learn every part of her mouth.

She kissed me back with this slow, hungry ache. Her hands tugged at my shirt again, pulling me closer until I felt her thighs brush mine, her hips pressing, soft and warm and open.

She backed up to the bed. I followed.

Hands braced on either side of her, breath shaking, I leaned down, nose to hers.

"Ava... tell me you're ready."

She looked up at me like she wasn't afraid of anything.

"I'm ready, Noah."

I have never--not once--felt that much emotion hit me all at once.

I'd kissed her like I'd been starving for her. Like I'd waited forever.

Her fingers curled into my hair. My hands moved under her sweater, slowly feeling her stomach, the curve of her back, the warmth of her skin. She was soft everywhere. Real. Shaking. Wanting.

I pulled back just enough to breathe, heart pounding, skin too hot.

My hoodie was suddenly unbearable—like I couldn't breathe with it on.

I yanked it over my head, hands trembling. Not because I wanted to show off. Not to be sexy. I just needed air.

She looked up at me. And her eyes traveled down my chest—not hungry, not shy. Just... soft. Curious. Like she was seeing something fragile.

Like me.

I stepped closer.

She reached for me instantly.

Her hands flattened against my chest—barely a touch—but I swear to god, it felt like she touched my heart.

"Tell me one more time," I whispered, voice wrecked. "Tell me you're sure."

"I'm sure," she breathed. "I trust you."

My forehead dropped to hers. Her name slipped from my lips without permission:

"Ava..."

She lifted her chin and kissed me—slow and deep, like she was handing me a key to something she'd never unlocked before.

I guided her back onto the bed, careful, genuine, reverent.

Her body settled beneath mine like it belonged there.

Her hand had slid to the hem of my shirt, fingers slipping underneath—not pulling. Just holding.

Her voice shook. "Don't stop."

I kissed her again, my hands trembling as they found her waist. The heat between us was rising, thickening, wrapping around every breath.

She tugged at my shirt. I pulled it over my head.

Then I touched the edge of hers—just a brush, asking.

She nodded.

I undressed her gently. Like every inch of skin I revealed was something precious.

She was breathless. Her eyes never left mine.

"Beautiful," I whispered, hands running over her ribs, her stomach, and the soft curve of her chest beneath her bra.

Her fingers fumbled with the clasp. I covered them with mine. "I've got it," I whispered.

And then she was bare.

The way she looked—flushed cheeks, hair spilling over her pillow, lips swollen, breath coming in little gasps—it undid me.

Her legs curled against mine. Her hands found the bottom of my jeans.

"Is this okay?" I asked.

She nodded, voice trembling. "I want you."

I stripped for her—boxers last—and when I was finally bare, her eyes widened slightly.

I moved over her again, body pressed to hers, every inch of skin against skin.

I reached down between her legs, my hand slipping into to the heat of her.

She gasped.

"You're so warm." I whispered. "So soft."

Her breath hitched. Her thighs shifted. She was slick, ready, open.

I paused right at the edge of her. "Tell me if anything hurts. Anything at all."

Her hand curled around mine. Her voice, barely audible:

"I want to feel you."

I pushed forward—slow, careful.

She gasped again—louder this time. Her legs tensed. Her eyes fluttered.

I froze. "Too much?"

She shook her head. "No. Don't stop."

I pressed in deeper.

Her nails dug into my shoulder. Her hips shifted to meet me.

And finally, we were joined.

I didn't move right away. I couldn't. Her eyes were wet. Her mouth was trembling. My heart was breaking open just holding her like that.

Her whisper shattered me: "You can move."

So I did.

Slow. Deep. Rhythmic.

Her breath broke in little gasps. Her body arched beneath me, legs curling, fingers pulling me down until I was completely flushed against her.

"Noah..." she moaned, her voice barely a sound.

"You feel so good," I breathed against her throat. "You feel like everything."

We moved together—bodies molded, hearts racing. Her moans grew softer. Higher. I kissed her again and again.

Her voice caught. "I'm—"

I kissed her temple. "Let go. I've got you."

She did.

Her body arched. Her eyes closed. Her breath spilled from her lips like light.

I followed her over the edge, burying myself in her warmth, every part of me pulsing with the way I felt her—around me, beneath me, in me.

I collapsed beside her, heart still racing, hand wrapped around hers.

She turned her head, eyes full of wonder.

"I love you," I whispered.

She smiled, eyes shining.

"I love you too."

And when we finally fell asleep—breath tangled, skin pressed together, hands intertwined—I knew this wasn't just a moment.

It was everything.