Page 85 of Pressure Point

“I still hate the shoes.”

Avery shook her head, a small laugh escaping. The smirk on his face made her stomach flip again. Leave it to Liam to comment on that as she was pouring out her heart.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of seeing you. Of letting you know that you are the most amazing man I’ve ever met. And not just because of the way you make me feel, which, by the way, is pretty fucking spectacular. But for everything. You are loving, loyal, caring, giving…I could go on and on. You put everyone before yourself. Even my crazy idea—you supported that because it was what I wanted, and you just wanted to make me happy. That makes you world-class, sir—in a league all your own. There is not a single thing about you, Liam Daley, that is second-rate. And I’m so, so sorry for ever letting you think for an iota of a moment that you were.”

Liam’s mouth crashed down on hers, hot and hard. It was a kiss fueled by so much emotion that Avery felt it all the way down to her toes. No, scratch that. She felt it to the tips of the hair on her arms that he was making stand on end. And it was glorious. She whimpered, her arms snaking up around his neck, trying to pull him even closer. Liam responded, taking the kiss deeper for a moment, before pulling back and placing his lips softly against her forehead.

“I love you, Liam. You’re the one I want to spend my nights with curled up on the couch, the one I want to break beds with,” she continued, giggling. “It's your number that I want to wear, to show off just how much I love you. And that I belong to you.”

Liam kissed her again, this time softer and slower. It did nothing to slow down Avery’s pulse though, which hadn’t stopped racing since she’d entered Bunz.

“I love you too, Avery,” he whispered in between kisses. “From your awkward, nervous ramblings to the way you handle managing the health of us players with ease—everything about you is just perfect.”

“Even my foodgasms?” she joked.

“Especially the foodgasms. In fact, they might just be one of my favorite things about you,” he answered, cutting off her impending giggle with a kiss. “And I’m sorry I let my own insecurities get in the way last night.”

“Don’t be.”

“I am. Because that’s not how a man treats the woman who wears his number. And you’re the only woman I want wearing it.”

Avery smiled up at Liam, feeling as if she were floating on clouds. The look on Liam’s face told her that the feeling was mutual, only multiplying her own joy. He leaned down, placing soft kisses along her jaw, making her whole body melt into him.

A knock at the door ruined the moment though, Avery biting her lip as she turned to watch it open. Panic washed over her, worried that whoever it was would think they were doing something they shouldn't in here. That feeling was followed quickly by relief when Link poked his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt, but there is a Mrs.…” he trailed off, turning his head to hear something outside. “Mrs. Jenkins who wants to make sure you have her address.”

“Who?” Liam asked.

“Errr…I’m not sure how much you heard, but I might have promised that lady who was trying to outbid me that you would move furniture for her, while she and I, errr…watched,” Avery answered, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Did you now…” he said, the teasing lilt to his voice not betraying whether or not he’d heard that part of the conversation.

“I had to win that auction! I needed you to know that I love you.”

Liam threw his head back in a laugh that sent shock waves through Avery. God, she loved the sound of his laugh.

“I do know. And I love you right back,” he said, kissing her again. “Think she’d take a signed jersey and tickets to the game instead?”

“She was pretty adamant about the furniture.”

“Then furniture it is.”

“You’re an amazing man, Liam Daley.”

“Nope, just your man.”

Epilogue

Five Weeks Later

“Could you move it a little more to the left?” Mrs. Jenkins asked, gesturing to the deep blue velvet wingback chair that Liam had just moved across her bedroom.

Liam nodded, then carefully squatted down, making sure to flex his ass and stick it out as far as he could as he shifted the chair. Avery managed to hold back a giggle for what felt like the millionth time today. Mrs. J—as she had insisted on being called when they both refused to call her Nancy—was making no effort to hide the enjoyment she was getting out of watching Liam do all this heavy lifting. Not that Avery could blame her. It was a great view.

“Perfect,” the older lady said. “But don’t forget the ottoman.”

“I would never,” Liam answered, flexing for her.