2. Ava
Ava
I sat on the edge of my bed, bouncing my leg nervously as I chewed on my nails. My gaze kept drifting to the bathroom counter, where seven white sticks lay scattered—each one holding the verdict of my future.
My phone alarm chimed, sharp and unforgiving.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to stand. With shaky steps, I stepped into the bathroom and stopped in front of the counter. I tipped my head back, staring at the ceiling as I whispered a small prayer before finally looking down.
Pregnant.
All seven of them. Clear as day.
I was pregnant. The word didn’t feel real. I stared down at the tests again, like they might suddenly change their minds. Seven tiny windows. Seven identical answers.
Positive.
Maybe all these tests were defective. That was totally possible.
My brain began to spiral—how was I going to tell the father?
That I was the one who’d messed up, that this was my fault.
I could raise a child by myself, right? Women did it all the time.
Would I have to quit my job? Put my career on hold?
Find something with more practical hours.
How was I going to juggle being a single mom AND a lawyer?
I pressed my palms to the cold granite, trying to steady the dizzy feeling spinning through me. My brain kept jumping ahead—doctor appointments, due dates, maternity leave, telling my family.
Telling Walker.
Christ. My brother was going to lose his mind.
I dragged a shaky breath into my lungs and rested my hand on my stomach, the gesture instinctive even though there was nothing to feel yet. No movement. No proof beyond the plastic sticks scattered across the counter.
And yet somehow everything in my life had already changed.
I’d spent years carefully building the version of my life I wanted—law school, the firm, the independence I’d fought so hard for. None of those plans had included this. But staring down at those tests, one thought rose above the panic.
This was happening.
And I had no idea what came next.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. The one time in my life I’d been careless, missed a few days of my pill, was the same month I’d decided to have unprotected sex.
I sank to the floor, my back sliding down the vanity as tears blurred my vision.
What am I going to do?
I was twenty-seven. Single. Deep into my career as a lawyer. This wasn’t part of the plan. But I guess life didn’t care about timing—it just happened while you were busy making plans.
So I did the only thing I could think to do. I called my big sister.
It took nothing more than the sound of my voice for Addison to hang up and drive the hour from Primrose Hill to Austin. I never moved from the bathroom floor. When I heard the key turn in the lock and the front door open, my chest tightened.
“Avs?” Addison called out. “Where are you?”
“Bathroom,” I croaked.
She stopped short when she rounded the corner, her eyes widened as she took in the scene—me curled on the floor, tear-streaked cheeks, pregnancy tests scattered around me like evidence.
I looked up at her, defeated.
Her brows pulled together as she rushed to me, dropping to her knees and wrapping me in a hug I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath for. She pressed a kiss to my hair, her fingers moving in that same comforting rhythm she used to do when we were kids and I’d had a bad day.
“Avs,” she murmured. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”
I leaned into her, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. Addison had always been the comfort in our family. Walker was the storm, I was the spark, Weston was the anchor, and somehow Addison still managed to hold us all together.
When we were kids, she was the one who fixed things—broken friendships, broken hearts, broken bones after Walker convinced me to jump my horse over something stupid.
Apparently, adulthood wasn’t any different.
“Talk to me,” she said softly. “How far along do you think you are?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe four weeks? Five?”
She nodded slowly, already thinking through it the way she always did. “Okay. First step is doctor. Get a blood test to confirm. Then we go from there.”
We.
My throat tightened.
“You’re not mad?” I asked quietly.
Addison pulled back just enough to look at me like I’d grown a second head. “Mad?” she repeated. “Ava, you’re pregnant, not confessing to a crime.”
I gave a weak laugh. “Walker might disagree. His best friend is the father,” I admitted.
She winced, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Walker will have… feelings,” she said diplomatically. “Many loud, dramatic feelings. But he’ll calm down eventually.”
I wiped at my eyes. “Eventually?”
She squeezed my hand. “Give him… ten to fifteen years.” She brushed my hair away from my face, her eyes steady on mine. “But now you have to tell me everything.”
I nodded, my gaze dropping to the floor.
And I did.
Over the next week, I did what I did best.
I got control… well, I at least tried to.
I was at the pharmacy, standing in front of an intimidating lineup of prenatal vitamins, feeling completely lost. A woman, who I didn't realize was standing next to me, cleared her throat before handing me a bottle of vitamins.
"Here. These worked great for me, and I was able to eat them on an empty stomach, which was a Godsend considering I couldn't keep anything down for the first few months. " She flashed me a sympathetic smile.
I glanced down at the bottle in my hand. Tears pricked the back of my eyes before I brought my watery gaze back to her. "Thank you," I forced out.
"Your first?" she said knowingly.
I nodded. "How could you tell?"
"Might have been the lost look on your face, the sheer panic in your eyes," she said teasingly.
I huffed out a laugh. "I'm that obvious, huh?"
The nice woman reached out and squeezed my arm gently, "Take it one day at a time. I know it feels scary right now, but I promise you it’s worth it." She turned to leave but then quickly spun back around. "Oh. And don't Google anything. Trust me."
I shot her a grateful smile. "Got it."
Later that night, I Googled.
Everything.
It was a terrible idea, and I immediately regretted it. I was now somehow even more overwhelmed than I’d been staring at seven positive pregnancy tests, but at least now I had a mile-long list of questions for my doctor in the morning.
Addison had already processed the shock of learning who the father was, so she was now firmly in big-sister mode. She insisted on coming with me to my doctor's appointment to confirm.
After my blood was drawn, I rapid-fire-questioned my doctor about everything and anything imaginable concerning pregnancy.
She took it like a champ and took her time to ease my anxiety as best she could…
but let's be real, there was only so much she could do when I was staring in the face of single-momhood.
When the results came back positive, the doctor scheduled an ultrasound for a few weeks later.
There was no denying it anymore. This was real.
Addison thought it was only fair to tell the father before the rest of our family found out. I didn’t argue. I couldn’t, even if every instinct in me screamed to delay it just a little longer.
I spent the next few days doing what I’d avoided since the bathroom floor—trying to wrap my head around what to say to him and how to say it.
I still couldn’t believe I’d let this happen. How could I have been so careless?
I prided myself on being in control. Yes, I was the rebellious, bold James sibling—but everything I did was calculated. Meticulously managed. I always knew what I was doing.
Until now.
I invited Cohen over the next day.
I didn’t have his number, and seeing as there was no way in hell I was asking Walker for it, I sent him a DM on social media.
How romantic.
He was set to arrive any minute, and I couldn’t think of another time when I’d needed a drink more. I sighed, resting my hand on my stomach as I looked at myself in the mirror.
I studied my reflection for a long moment.
Same dark hair. Same blue eyes. Same woman who’d walked into Cohen Jordan’s penthouse over a month ago, convinced she knew exactly what she was doing.
Except that woman hadn’t been carrying his child.
What if he doesn't want this? What if he opts out—chooses not to be a part of it? Chooses to leave.
I didn't need him, but the thought of doing this alone was… terrifying.
My stomach flipped again.
I’d never needed anyone. So why did it suddenly feel like I did?
I’d replayed that night in my head more times than I cared to admit. The tequila. The music. The way he looked at me, like I was the only person at that bar. The way I hadn’t stopped him… the way I hadn’t wanted to.
I pressed my lips together, pushing the memory away. Regret wouldn’t fix anything now. The only thing that mattered was what happened next. Cohen deserved to know. Even if the idea of telling him made my pulse race like I was about to take the bar exam again.
I exhaled slowly and squared my shoulders.
You can do hard things, Ava.
I’d graduated at the top of my class in law school. I was a lawyer at one of the top firms in the city—granted, it was corporate law, and I mostly handled contracts—but still. Surely I could survive one conversation with a professional baseball player.
Even if that baseball player happened to be the father of my baby.
“I know you’ll be worth it,” I muttered softly.
A knock at the door sent my pulse into dangerous territory, a pit forming deep in my stomach. On shaky legs, I crossed the apartment. One final breath, and I pulled the door open.
Cohen stood on the other side, dark brown hair perfectly tousled, scruff coating his jaw. His hazel eyes locked on mine, a slow smile tugging at his lips.
“Well, well, well,” he said. “This was unexpected, Trouble.” He winked as he stepped inside.
That nickname seems especially fitting now.
His gaze swept the apartment before settling back on me. “Nice place.” He paused. “Thought a big bad lawyer like you would have something bigger, though.”
I crossed my arms. “I’m a corporate lawyer, and this place is plenty big enough. It’s just me. I don’t need a space to match my ego, unlike some people.”
He scoffed. “I’m a big guy. I need space.” He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
Without thinking, I leaned into his touch. Suddenly remembering where I was—as if shocked back into reality— I cleared my throat and stepped back. “Uh… sorry. I didn’t invite you over to hook up.” My eyes dropped to the floor.
“So what did you invite me over for then?” He sat down on my couch. One arm draped over the back, legs spread wide.
Smart move. You’ll want to be sitting for this, buddy.
I took a deep, steadying breath and sat beside him. I decided to cut right to the chase.
“I’m pregnant.”
Silence.
His expression went blank. Stoic. Unreadable.
“And it’s yours,” I clarified.
More silence.
“Please say something,” I whispered, my leg bouncing despite my best effort to stay still.
He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly, then leaned forward with his forearms braced on his thighs. “But… I thought you were on the pill.” His tone was not accusatory, but calm. Too calm.
“I was.” I swallowed. “I didn’t realize at the time that the week before we—” I gestured between us, “hooked up, I’d missed a few pills. I was running on no sleep because of a brutal deadline.”
My gaze dropped. The guilt sat heavy in my chest. I felt like such a fuck-up. I was better than this. This wasn’t like me. A misstep of this magnitude was unprecedented.
“I—I’ve never been in this situation,” he said carefully. “So forgive me if this is offensive, but… are you going to keep the baby?”
I looked up. “Yes. I am,” I said confidently, without hesitation.
His mouth parted like he wanted to say something, but I lifted my hand.
“I understand the situation,” I continued. “You can be in the baby’s life as much as you want—or not at all. I don’t want or expect anything from you, Cohen.”
He nodded slowly. I noticed then that his hands were trembling. “Does Walker know?” His voice cracked, the anxiety evident.
“No,” I said. “Not yet. I thought maybe we could tell him together.” It came out as a question, softer than I intended.
He ran his hands up and down his thighs, nodding. “Yeah. That’s probably best. He won’t kill me in front of his little sister.” The laugh that followed was strained. Humorless.
He stood abruptly and started pacing. “We should tell him this weekend. The sooner the better, before he hears it from someone else. I’ll drive, since you’re…” He gestured vaguely toward my stomach. “Pregnant.”
I snorted. “Cohen, I’m pregnant, not disabled. I can still drive.”
His phone buzzed. He checked it, then swore under his breath. “Shit. I’ve got a workout. I’m running late.”
I nodded. “Yeah. No problem. I’ll set something up and let you know. Give me your phone.”
He handed it over mid-pace. I typed in my number and hit send. A second later, my phone chimed. I saved his contact and handed the phone back.
“Okay. Yeah.” He headed for the door, distracted, nodding to himself.
I dropped my face into my hands. I couldn't believe this was my life.
The door opened again.
“Hey, Ava?”
I looked up. “Yeah?”
“Text me when your next doctor’s appointment is. Okay?”
I nodded, suddenly speechless.
He disappeared down the hall, the door clicking shut behind him.
I exhaled slowly.
Okay.
Maybe… maybe I wasn’t going to be in this alone after all.