4. Ava
Ava
Present day
“Ellie, sweetheart. I know you hate being swaddled, but you sleep so much better like this,” I murmured, gently tucking the blanket around my beautiful baby girl.
Her tiny fingers curled around the edge of the blanket as she squirmed in protest. Ellie had opinions about everything—being swaddled, diaper changes, even which side she preferred to nurse on.
A month ago, I’d been terrified. I had no idea what I was doing. Now I could tell the difference between her hungry cry and her overtired one. I could change a diaper in the dark. I could rock her back to sleep in under five minutes… most nights, anyway.
Motherhood was exhausting, overwhelming, and the most incredible thing I’d ever experienced.
Elizabeth Addison was a month old, and she was my entire world. I hadn’t known love like this existed until I held her in my arms. Elizabeth was my mother, Laurel's, and my middle name. Addison was obviously in honor of my sister.
Cohen had surprised me throughout my pregnancy.
We’d kept things friendly, and whenever he was in town, he came to every doctor’s appointment he could.
I’d gone into labor while he was in Florida for a game, but he’d left early and chartered my brother-in-law, Dean’s, private jet to make it back in time.
Perks of having a billionaire brother-in-law, I guess.
It was important to me that Cohen and I maintained a solid friendship. Keeping our attraction to each other firmly in check was what was best for Ellie.
I settled Ellie into her crib, switched on the sound machine, and slipped quietly out of my bedroom.
My apartment was a wreck. Diapers, burp cloths, blankets, and onesies were everywhere.
A pile of baby-shower gifts sat untouched in one corner, and my kitchen counter was covered in drying bottles.
I was breastfeeding, but I pumped too—trying to get Ellie used to a bottle before I had to return to work.
A half-drunk cup of coffee sat abandoned beside the sink, reheated at least three times already that morning. My breast pump pieces were spread across the counter like some kind of plastic science experiment.
I’d always been organized—color-coded calendars, neatly filed cases, perfectly balanced schedules.
My life was controlled. I always knew what to expect, or at least was prepared for anything.
Motherhood had obliterated that system and that sense of security almost immediately.
Now my life was chaos. I was in what felt like survival mode every day.
But in the best way.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
I climbed over a pile of laundry I still hadn’t folded and caught my reflection in the mirror, wincing.
Yikes. I really need a shower.
I opened the door to find Cohen standing there with a box of diapers tucked under one arm and wipes under the other.
He grinned, looking unfairly good in an Aviators t-shirt stretched across his broad chest, navy joggers slung low on his hips, a baseball cap turned backward with dark waves peeking out beneath it.
The fucker.
Was I… drooling?
Fuck these postpartum hormones.
I glanced down at my own outfit and groaned. I looked aggressively homeless.
Cohen snorted, clearly reading my mind. “Hey, Trouble. How’s our girl? I brought reinforcements—homegirl goes through diapers at an alarming rate.” He stepped inside, scanning the room. His shoulders dropped slightly as he took it all in.
I immediately felt self-conscious, which was not very Ava of me. I began making a show of cleaning up the living room, acting as if that was totally what I was doing before he showed up.
He turned back toward me. “So. I’ve got some news for you. And judging by the state of this place, I think it’s good news.”
I crossed to the coffee table and picked up the baby monitor to check on Ellie. “Okay,” I said carefully. “What’s your news?”
His hazel eyes lit up. “I got you an apartment in my building.”
I stared at him. “You got me an apartment?”
“Yes.”
“In your building.”
“Yes.”
“I already have a place,” I said, waving vaguely at the chaos around us.
“Ava,” he said patiently. “This place worked when it was just you. But now we have Ellie—and she comes with a lot of stuff. Or so I’ve learned.” He nudged a pile of clothes off the couch before plopping down. “And I’d really like you closer to me.”
“So you can what?” I asked, crossing my arms. “Supervise? I’m only like eight miles away from your place.”
“So I can help,” he said simply. “And be around her more when I’m home.” He picked a piece of lint off his thigh. “With Austin traffic, it takes me twenty minutes to get here,” he tacked on.
“My place is fine,” I argued. “And your building is ridiculously expensive. I may be a lawyer, but I don’t make professional-baseball-player money.”
He crossed one leg over the other, completely unfazed. “I’ve got it covered.”
I shook my head immediately. “No. Absolutely not." I threw my hands in the air dramatically. "I’m not letting you pay for my apartment. That’s crazy.”
“Then don’t think of it that way,” he countered. “Think of it as me making sure my daughter has enough space—and her mom gets a little help.”
I hesitated. I was proud of my independence. I had worked hard to get to where I was. Cohen paying my rent felt like a regression, like I was handing over control and relying on a man. Something I told myself I would never do.
But now there was Ellie.
I glanced around at my overstuffed apartment. Having more space would be nice—and having Cohen close by wouldn't hurt.
As if he could sense my internal battle, he continued. “Listen, you don’t have to give this place up. But while Ellie’s little, at least move into my building.” He met my eyes. “Please.”
I exhaled slowly, continuing to weigh my options.
“At least come look at it tomorrow,” he added. “If you hate it, I’ll back off.”
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll look. But I’m not promising anything.”
A grin tugged at his lips in victory. “No promises. Got it.” Then he casually added, “Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll watch the monitor.”
I scoffed, planting my hands on my hips. “Are you implying something, CoJo?”
“Never,” he said innocently, grabbing the remote and flipping on SportsCenter.
Once in the bathroom, I studied my reflection.
Dark circles from late-night feedings. Hair piled messily on my head. A milk-stained t-shirt. My body was softer now—fuller breasts, stretch marks, a stomach that hadn’t quite found its way back.
But that little girl sleeping in the next room made every change worth it.
I'd never envisioned myself as a mother, never thought I would have children, if I were being honest. After having Ellie though…
now I couldn't imagine not being a mother. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. I felt like my life finally had purpose. It was a feeling I’d tried to chase by becoming a lawyer, but it had never quite felt like this.
I stepped into the shower and let the hot water pour over me, tension melting away. I wasn’t rushing. For once, I didn’t have to.
Maybe Cohen has a point.
Living closer would mean help—real help. Not all the time, but enough. Moments like this. Time to breathe. To reset.
My family came to Austin whenever they could, but they all had their own lives in Primrose Hill. Out here, it was mostly just me.
And Cohen.
Dammit.
I hated when he was right.
I brushed my fingertips across the quartz countertop, my gaze drifting out toward Lady Bird Lake. The view alone made this place feel unreal—plus it was easily three times the size of my apartment.
Still, I wasn’t about to make this easy for Cohen.
We were touring the apartment he wanted Ellie and me to move into—at his expense. I hated that part, even if the pros were starting to outweigh the cons.
Since he lived in the penthouse, we wouldn’t be on the same floor.
This unit sat directly beneath his. The apartment had three bedrooms and two bathrooms. There was a large living area that flowed straight into the kitchen.
Pale quartz countertops stretched across a huge island, the cabinets a soft matte white.
Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the back wall, flooding the entire apartment with light.
Cohen had insisted a guest room would be helpful for when my family came to visit, and a separate room for Ellie when she was ready to move out of mine. This place felt like something out of a magazine; it was modern but warm, flooded with natural light, and—of course—faced the lake.
I drifted toward the glass, staring out at the water below. Paddleboarders moved slowly across the lake while the Austin skyline rose in the distance.
Did I mention that night how much I love the view from his place?
I turned to him. He stood near the window, rocking Ellie in his arms, his eyes fixed on me like he was waiting for a verdict.
Put a baby in a man’s arms—his arms—and I was a goner. I’d probably say yes to anything.
But I could see us here so clearly. Slow mornings on the balcony, rocking Ellie while I sipped my coffee, the lake sparkling like diamonds in the sunrise. Decorating her room in soft pastels and woodland creatures. Movie nights, snuggled up on the couch while the fire roared beneath the TV.
I sighed. “I hate to admit it, CoJo… but this place is incredible.”
He pumped his free arm in victory. “Ha! Told you,” he whisper-yelled, pressing a kiss to the top of Ellie’s sleeping head.
I rolled my eyes. “You win. How soon can we move in?”
“I may have already scheduled movers for next month,” he said nonchalantly, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Of course you did,” I rolled my eyes. “Cocky son of a bitch.”
I crossed the room and reached for Ellie. Cohen placed her into my arms, careful and gentle. I kissed her cheek, then looked up at him.
“How long is the lease for?” I asked.
“A year, but we can reassess then.”
I shook my head. “No way. Once the lease is up, I’ll figure something out. I can find a bigger place that doesn’t cost what this does.” I walked back toward the view of the lake. “I’m already uncomfortable with you paying for my rent for a year; there's no way it goes beyond that.”
Cohen shrugged and said nothing, but I had the feeling this was not the last of this conversation.
I turned back toward him. “Seriously,” I said. “Thank you for this.”
He shrugged, hands sliding into his pockets. “I’ve got you.”
The next few weeks flew by in a blur of boxes and exhaustion.
Cohen hired movers—and then paid them to unpack everything too. Sometimes I swore he thought I was incapable of doing anything myself. But I couldn’t deny how helpful it was.
He was out of town for a series in San Francisco. Even so, he texted often, and we tried to FaceTime at least once a day so he could see Ellie. He was far more involved than I’d ever expected, and I was grateful she had a present father.
I was finishing the last of the dishes when a FaceTime request popped up on my phone.
Cohen’s face filled the screen.
“Hey, hey!” he said, smiling. “Where’s my girl?”
He looked like he’d just showered, damp waves pushed back, skin warm and relaxed.
Infuriatingly handsome.
“She’s snoozing in her Boppy,” I said, flipping the camera to show Ellie asleep on the counter in her little newborn cushion.
He leaned closer to the screen, lowering his voice instinctively. “Look at her. Damn, she’s got even more hair.”
I smiled. “I know. A full dark-brown mop already. And her eyes are only getting bluer—I wonder if they’ll stay that way.”
He grinned. “I hope so. Then she’ll look like her pretty mama.”
My body warmed in a way I couldn’t explain. I hated how my body reacted to him. Hated that it always felt so easy with him.
Cohen glanced off-screen at the same time I heard a woman’s voice.
My stomach dropped.
We were friends. Nothing more. But the thought of him with someone else made my chest tighten painfully.
Why am I surprised?
Cohen Jordan had a reputation for a reason.
He nodded to whoever was beside him, smiling.
Then I saw her.
The back of a woman with long blonde hair crossed the edge of the screen—there one second, gone the next.
Something inside me hardened. My stomach dropped before I could stop it.
Of course there was a woman there. Cohen was handsome, charming, and very single.
Women had always hovered around him like moths to a flame.
Still, seeing it—knowing someone else was standing just out of frame in his hotel room—sent an uncomfortable ache through my chest.
Cohen turned back toward me. “So, how did moving go? Everything set up?”
“It was fine,” I said shortly. “I’m still working on it." I couldn't control the edge to my voice. I was ready for this conversation to end.
A flicker of confusion crossed his face.
“I’ve got to go,” I added flatly. “I still have a lot to do.”
He frowned slightly. “Okay. Give Ellie a kiss for me. I’ll text you later.”
“You don’t have to,” I said, already pulling away. “Enjoy your night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I ended the call before he could respond.
I braced my hands on the counter, staring at nothing. This was exactly why I needed to keep Cohen firmly in the friend zone—no matter the attraction. Tonight was just a reminder that I would never be his first choice.
If I were, there wouldn’t have been another woman in his hotel room.
Cohen didn’t do serious, that much was obvious. Anything more than friendship would result in a monumental mess that Ellie would bear the brunt of. If co-parenting was going to work, rule number one—no catching feelings.