Dear Ava

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  He shudders. “I never stopped watching out for you, Tulip. I’ve known where you’ve been since day one.”

  “I didn’t doubt it for a moment. You love me. You love me.”

  “We needed a new beginning and I wanted to give it to you. Maybe you met someone. Maybe you…didn’t want me anymore. Maybe you walked away and never thought of me again.”

  “Never.” My lips brush over his.

  “I want you so fucking bad, and I know I just showed up—”

  “Take me, please, I’m yours.”

  He groans and kisses me, our hands pulling and fumbling as we manage to get our pants off, our shoes. And then he has me back in his arms and I’m staring down at him, drinking him in. I clutch his head, writhing against his skin, feeling the ridge of him through my panties.

  “Shhhh, I got you,” he murmurs, kissing my throat, his teeth nipping at me.

  I pull his face to mine and kiss him, hard and deep, searching his mouth, sucking on his tongue like I want to devour him. Fast and hard and fast and hard and fast and hard…

  I shove his underwear down and even in the dim light, I can see he’s long and thick and firm.

  “Tulip, I’ve pictured you in my mind, in my dreams like this, so many long nights without you and nothing is right without you, not beaches or mountains or the sky because I need you, need you, need you. You’re the only one who knows me, who sees me the way I am inside.” He exhales, moving his hips up against my hand.

  Without preamble, he slips his fingers under my lace panties and slides one inside my wetness, and I arch up and ride his hand, rubbing him where I need him. My lips and tongue nibble at his chest, my hands roving over his skin, savoring, wanting him so much as I commit his smell, his taste to my memory.

  “Condom,” I say in between kisses.

  He grunts. “I don’t have any.”

  “You idiot.”

  He takes my chin. “You’re the last girl I was with. Didn’t need condoms.”

  “Same. You’re the only guy I want.” Pausing for a moment, I say, “It’s a safe time of the month for me.”

  I shove my hands in his silky hair and dig my fingers into his scalp as he eases me up. I’m standing in front of him, his eyes hot as he slowly takes off my panties. I’m a quivering mess, need and hope like birds rushing to the sky. So long, so long…

  He bites his bottom lip and takes me in, and I do a twirl while he smiles then pulls me back to him and places me on his lap, my legs around the outside of his thighs. Staring into my eyes, he pumps inside me like silk-covered steel and we cry out then still against each other, our chests heaving.

  “Tulip, Tulip, so good, so good, you, you, you, you,” he mumbles and slides all the way out then back in, his shoulders quivering. “Sweet, so fucking sweet.”

  “Knox…” I moan and writhe against him.

  He takes me, his hands on my hips, his cock swiveling inside me, his eyes never leaving mine.

  My hands cling to him, hanging on as he changes his angle, rotating inside me, the top of him brushing against my clit. He’s rough and fast and good, so fucking good as he pushes in and out. His hands burn my skin where he clutches me. His eyes blaze.

  He tells me, “You are mine,” and when his fingers go between us and flick over my clit with delicious intent, I beg him mindlessly, lost in him, to never let me go, to hold me like this, to belong to him, to be part of his world. I come, my core spasming around him as I scream his name.

  “Tulip, Tulip,” he calls and goes over the cliff with me, his eyes wild, and oh, oh, I love him so much it hurts.

  He breathes into my neck and clutches me tight, rocking me as I hang on to him.

  We stay like that for a long time, our hands clinging to the other as he strokes my back and murmurs in my ear how beautiful and fierce I am.

  We make love again, slower this time, with me laid back on the couch while he strokes inside me, running his hands over my face, down my throat, to the rapid pulse that beats in my neck. He puts his lips there and owns me, my cries, my gasps, my everything.

  Later, he gives me a roomy shirt of his while he changes into loose pajama pants.

  “Want to see my place?” he asks gruffly, his eyes on my face, never off me for long. There’s a hopeful look about him.

  I nod and he gives me a tour. The apartment is big: three bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a kitchen bigger than my dorm room.

  “There’s room for Tyler here,” he tells me.

  I nod.

  “And I’ve been researching schools close to Vandy. There are a few he might like—if you want to move in, that is?” He looks uncertain. “I have money from my mom and I’ve been working for my dad to save up more. I want to take care of you and Tyler the right way.”

  Oh, Knox.

  He pauses. “I know you’re independent as hell, but I need you with me, Tulip. I let you walk away. I could have chased after you and begged you to come back, but I stuffed everything down and carried on for my family, to get our shit straight, and we did. But there’s no more going slow with me. No more distance. No more time to breathe. It’s our time. Us.”

  My chin trembles with the effort of not crying. “Dane needed you so much, and I did too, but I had to get out of there and carry on and put it behind me.”

  He strokes my hair. “I get it. Dad told me about how he helped you. He was honest from the get-go the day you left, and I’m happy he helped you with Vandy. I know about you getting guardianship too. Tyler might not want to leave the only place he’s ever known, but he’s part of you and if he’s amendable, I want him with us—”

  God. His kindness overwhelms me.

  Tears slide down my face as I kiss him. “I can move in tomorrow. We’ll figure out what Tyler wants.”

  He wipes my face, and when the sun comes up in our bedroom, we’re still awake, lying side by side, touching each other. My leg is thrown over his hip as he eases inside me, one hand on my bottom, one wrapped around my hair. His lips drink from mine, worshipping me.

  “The sun’s coming up,” I whisper.

  “Dear Ava, today is the beginning of anything you want,” he says in my ear.

  I clutch his shoulders. “You. Always you.”

  * * *

  Epilogue 1

  The stadium explodes with applause, blaring music, and flashing lights. Several Vandy teammates slap me on the back.

  “Killer throw for that last touchdown, man!” yells James, my go-to wide receiver. “Citrus Bowl Champs! I can’t believe it! Best season we’ve had in years!”

  “Kickass season,” says Marlon, the quarterback coach, as he gives me a handshake then changes his mind and throws in an affectionate man-hug.

  Whipping my helmet off, I murmur a response as the fans rush the field.

  My eyes aren’t on them though. I’m looking for the blonde who sat front and center on the fifty-yard line. I did my damn best to keep my head off her during this last game, but she’s always there, floating in and out of my thoughts. Her heart-shaped face, those big aquamarine eyes. Her secret smile that’s just for me when I kiss my fingers on the field and send them out into the air for her to see.

  She jump-tackles me and I sweep her up to my chest. Rightness settles in my bones. Tulip.

  She buries her face in my neck. “Not bad for a third-string quarterback.”

  “Mmmm. Good thing I worked my way up to first string. Only took me until my senior year.”

  She throws her head back and laughs. “Looks like you didn’t peak in high school after all. I wonder what’s next?”

  I kiss her long and hard, oblivious to the camera flashes and media surrounding us. Except for those away games she couldn’t make, we haven’t spent a night apart since I showed up at Blue’s Bar. She moved from her dorm into my place and we never looked back. She’s the girl I wanted the moment she walked in the doors at Camden, and I know we’re young on the outside, but inside, the heart knows when it sees its forever.

&nbs
p; “Anything we want.” I press my lips to her palm, my gaze lingering on the two-carat engagement ring on her finger. I asked her to marry me the Christmas after we reunited. Well, technically, I asked Tyler first and he said, “Balls yes. Just do it already. You’re already living in sin, and I really wish you’d put up some concrete walls around your bedroom. I’m too young to hear that shit.”

  The kid in question comes barreling out of nowhere and clings to my leg. “That was the best game I have ever seen! I want to be a tattoo artist and a footballer,” he exclaims.

  “We’ll need to practice more,” I tell him as I ruffle his hair. He moved in with us permanently after we got engaged, and even though Ava worried about his transition from Camden to a local private school near the university, he adapted fast.

  One of the reporters has weaseled her way through the crush and reaches me. She sticks a mic in my face. “Knox, you led your team through a stellar season with eleven wins and two loses in the SEC, unheard of for the Commodores. How does it feel to win the Citrus Bowl?”

  Tyler squints up at her. “He’s got my sister by his side. She’s the badass. She’s in medical school. He’s feeling pretty lucky right now, alright.” His head nods with confidence.

  That’s right, straight from a kid.

  He’s such a good, bright person, and I see Ava in him every day, that chin that tilts up, determination and grit as he pushes himself. It hasn’t been easy, adapting to each other, but he’s mine. My heart dips when he smiles. My hands tuck him in at night alongside Ava. The image makes me smile. I’m not your typical college football player who’s living the high life with frat parties and girls. No thanks.

  “Guess he said it all,” I murmur to the reporter.

  “Any hopes for the NFL draft? There’s talk of you being a first-round pick,” she says.

  “I’m passing on the NFL. I’ve got other dreams,” I tell her.

  Ava just shrugs with a smile. Once upon a time, I pictured myself playing professionally, but everything realigned during the year I took off, and I realized I wanted a regular life working with my dad. The older I get—ha!—the more I yearn for stability and her. It’s not a sacrifice to leave the game. I came here. I played. Hell, I won, but my true love is building a foundation, a legacy for my family—plus, shit football hurts and takes up too much time. Even now, my hip is killing me. I want a long, long life, unfettered, unchained from commitments I lack the motivation for now.

  Dad and Dane jog over and slide in next to us, pride clear on my father’s face as he slaps me on the back with a big hug. “Congratulations, son. I’m so proud of you.” He gaze encompasses Ava and Tyler and I know besides football, he means them as well. We spend a lot of time with him and Dane, and damn, Dad’s face the first time Tyler asked if he should call him Grandpa—priceless. Tyler meant it as kind of a joke, I think, because he’s got a sharp wit, but Dad’s expression…floored. Then he told Tyler to call him whatever he wanted.

  There’s a closeness between Ava and Dad that still surprises me when I see them huddled over a stove cooking or talking about Sith Lords and Yoda, and gah, who knew he was such a nerd about a galaxy far, far away. But then, I didn’t really know that about him because with my mom, Dad suffered too, distancing himself and locking things away. Now, though, things have changed. That year I spent with him and Dane—I don’t regret one moment of it. We took a broken family and learned to heal.

  Dane picks me up, no easy feat, and attempts to twirl me around, but he can barely lift me.

  “Bro, you have zero upper-body strength,” I murmur.

  “Because I’m a serious college student.” He waggles clear, focused eyes. He’s been clean for years, attending NYU. Dad sees him a lot, flying between New York and Nashville.

  “This is my future grandfather and uncle. Knox is going to be my dad,” Tyler tells the reporter, who gives him a wide look, laughs, and then bends down to him.

  “Is that right? Tell me more.”

  I guess she’s going for the personal interest angle here.

  Tyler lets out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s a really, really long story—and I should know it because my future dad likes to tell it, but it started with a love letter he put in my sister’s locker…”

  I smile. Technically, it started the moment my eyes met hers freshman year in high school, but I let him begin his way.

  Ava meets my gaze, bites her lip, and clasps my hand.

  Tyler puts his small hand in my other one.

  Dane takes Ava’s free hand, and Dad takes Tyler’s.

  We’re a family.

  Epilogue 2

  The sun is high in the sky as a breeze blows in from the Atlantic. Palm trees rustle in the wind. A sailboat drifts by on the horizon. I take it all in, leaning my elbows on the railing as I inhale the smell of the beach and crashing waves. I soak it up then turn around to check the burgers on the grill.

  Lou lounges on a chair and lets out a long whistle. “Damn, I could retire here. What kind of square footage is this place?”

  “A gabillion,” Wyatt murmurs. “You should see my bedroom—plush, man, and it’s just a guestroom. I love how Ava’s decorated. Girl’s got great taste.”

  I smile unabashedly. Yeah, she does. I loved watching her pore over magazines and meet with designers after we bought it last year.

  Lou sees my expression and laughs. “God, you two.”

  Dane hands Lou a beer. “Six thousand square feet. Five bedrooms, five baths. Jacuzzi tubs, stainless steel everything, and five hundred feet of beachfront. Primo property and a mile from our family beach house.” He leans in and stares at the burgers. “Knox had to get one bigger than Dad’s. Showoff.”

  That is not true and my eyebrow tells him so.

  Since I graduated four years ago and took over some of Dad’s investments in the Nashville area, I’ve worked my way up from a desk job to executive vice president, and it has little to do with impressing my father. It’s about me and Ava.

  “The one next door is for sale,” I tell him slyly. “Maybe your fiancée would like it?”

  Ari, the girl in question, lights up and turns to Dane. “Oh, yes, let’s go check it out tomorrow!”

  Dane rolls his eyes. “Great. We aren’t even married yet and here you are, putting the pressure on.”

  “He’s just a happy sonofabitch and wants us all to be,” Wyatt says, settling in on a chair next to Jagger and handing him a beer. The two of them have been inseparable since Vandy days. Ava has already told them our beach house is theirs if they want to get married here. She and I were married at my dad’s place down the road right after I graduated.

  Piper sticks her head out the French doors. “Okay, okay, Knox, I know you’re busy with the guys and all, but do you have a moment?” She gives me a wide-eyed look. “Ava—”

  I toss the spatula on the countertop and dash inside.

  “Why don’t you run that fast when I need something?” I hear Ari ask Dane.

  I walk into an empty kitchen. Piper points down the hall to the master bedroom, and I head there.

  Ava sits on the big bed, a crying baby on each leg. Leland Knox and Persephone Tulip are officially two years old this weekend. My eyes search her. She looks okay, maybe a little scattered, and her hair needs brushing, but hey, when you’ve got two toddlers—

  “Ugh, I told Piper I was fine, told her they cry in tandem all the time. Doesn’t matter who’s mad or happy, the other wants to be part of it.” She huffs out a laugh when Leland burps, his face un-wrinkling at the relief then focusing on me. His pudgy hands reach for me. “Dada!”

  Ava shakes her head as I take him in my arms. “I thought the walk on the beach might have worn them out, but nope, not a single eye shut. You might as well get ready—”

  “My dada!” Persephone cries until I pick her up too, managing to bounce them on my hips.

  “They’re sleepy and here we are trying to have a birthday party.” Ava stands next to me, her fingers curling
under their chins as she hums a song. “Beautiful babies.”

  Leland reaches back for her, like he usually does, and I know he only picked me to rescue him from sleeping. Ava’s an incredible mom, soft and easy and patient, everything she always wanted from her own. Having a baby was part of the plan; twins, not so much, and while it’s slowed her down some during her medical training, she’ll be completely done soon and wants to work in research.

  Leland wipes his nose. “Nap bad,” he tells his mom sternly as he pulls on her hair.

  “Tyler!” Persephone chimes in.

  “Domestic bliss?” Tyler says on a laugh as he comes in the open door. My dad is with him. They left earlier for a movie while the rest of us chilled out this morning.

  Persephone wiggles her fingers for Tyler, and he takes her and settles her on his hip.

  “Guess what, little P? Grandpa let me drive today!” he says.

  I start and sputter as I glance at Dad. “You let him drive? He’s not even fifteen yet!”

  Dad looks a little pale, and I stop and chuckle. I recall well him teaching Dane and me to drive, featuring lots of yelling and cursing every time we braked too hard.

  Dad blows out a breath. “He asked and I thought, Why not? Not sure my car will ever be the same—”

  Tyler coos at the baby on his hip. “He’s not telling you about the pedestrian I nearly mowed down—”

  Ava’s eyes flare.

  Dad exhales. “They have bike lanes here and she was very pretty, and I saw exactly where your eyes were—”

  “She wasn’t. I just got distracted—” Tyler huffs.

  “Did he cuss at you?” Dane says, walking in and immediately swiping Leland from Ava. My son smiles, giggling at his uncle’s long hair.

  “Pretty,” he gurgles then spits up on Dane’s shirt.

  He blanches, his eyes widening. “Gross! Gah, I hate the smell of milk.” But he doesn’t let him go, even when Wyatt and Piper come in, each of them holding out their hands and vying for his attention.

  Lou pops his head in. “Food’s up!”