Ava
"Ican't decide if she looks more like you or Coh." Aria tickled Ellie's belly, pulling the most adorable giggle from her.
I shoved the bottle brush inside one of Ellie’s bottles and swirled it around.
"Me either. I mean, she seems to be keeping my blue eyes, and we both have brown hair, so I can't really tell.
" I rinsed out the bottle and placed it on the drying rack. "She’ll make certain faces where all I see is Cohen—and other times, it’s all me.
" I shrugged. "Only time will tell, I guess. "
A soft knock sounded at the front door of my apartment. Aria's head popped up. "You expecting someone?"
I shook my head, heading towards the door. I swung it open to reveal Cohen—Aviators t-shirt doing work across his thick arms and broad chest, chocolate waves perfectly tousled, hazel eyes bright. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Hey, Trouble."
Aria called from her spot on the couch with Ellie, "Who is it?"
"Just my baby daddy," I called over my shoulder.
Cohen smirked. "Just?"
I rolled my eyes. "What's up? What brings you down to the lower floors?"
"The guys and I grabbed takeout from that new Indian place. Do you and Aria want to join?" He glanced over my shoulder, searching for Ellie. "They also may have sent me to get the baby."
I tapped my finger to my chin. "Indian food does sound better than leftovers…" I trailed off.
Aria appeared out of nowhere with Ellie in tow. "We're in."
Cohen's eyes lit up at the sight of Ellie, and I’d have been lying if I said she didn’t light up right back. "My baby girl! Come to daddy." He reached out for her.
Aria groaned, handing her over. "I barely got five minutes with her,” she whined.
Ignoring her, Cohen already started heading down the hall with Ellie—like he knew I'd follow.
And I did. But only because, Indian food.
I was at the counter, spooning a large portion of tikka masala onto my plate, when I glanced up at four large professional baseball players crowded around my daughter, cooing and talking in baby talk. Meanwhile, Cohen stood back, hands planted proudly on his hips.
I'd never seen anything like it.
Aria walked up next to me to grab another piece of naan. She bumped her shoulder against mine, "I'm jealous. Girl's got all these hot athletic men fawning all over her."
I snorted. "She's going to have a rough go at dating with all these large, protective men in her life."
Aria snorted. "You're not wrong."
When the guys finally had their baby fill, we all sat around eating dinner and talking about Cohen being a dad.
"It's still so strange to me, watching him with her," Beckham said around a mouthful of basmati rice.
Shane nodded. "Right? I never thought I'd hear the words swaddle and sleep schedule come out of this guy's mouth." He threw a thumb at Cohen.
Maddox barked a laugh. "Or him knowing five different ways to relieve a baby's gas pain."
Drake smirked. "Give the guy a break. He finally found the only girl he'll commit to."
The guys all laughed. I involuntarily winced.
I looked around to see if anyone noticed, and sure enough, Aria's eyes were locked on me. I threw her a soft smile, trying to play it cool. Without returning the smile, she turned her attention back to Drake, slipping easily into whatever quiet conversation they’d already been having.
I turned my attention back over to Cohen, his grin wide as he watched Shane hold Ellie.
I'd never seen him like this, so… proud. The guy was an all-star shortstop for an elite professional baseball team. He made incredible saves to win games. He’d won the goddamn World Series, and even then, I didn't think I'd ever seen him as proud as he was when his eyes were firmly set on our daughter.
She's a lucky girl.
Cohen took Ellie from Shane, laying her against his shoulder, and softly patted her back. "Y'all are all just jealous that I've got the prettiest girl in the world in my life." He leaned his head back slightly to see Ellie's face. "Isn't that right, Ellie girl? You're the prettiest," he cooed.
Beckham put his fork down. "Speaking of pretty girls. Did you ever end up going out with that blonde chick from the bar the other night?"
My blood turned cold. A giant knot took up residence in my stomach, and I pushed my plate away, suddenly losing my appetite.
"Yeah, I took her to dinner a few nights ago," Cohen casually threw out.
My stomach churned.
"And….?" Beckham prodded.
"And. I don't know. It was okay." I wasn’t sure if Cohen was holding back for my sake.
Shane shook his head, disappointed. "Dude. She was hot. How was it just okay? Did you at least take her home?"
Cohen narrowed his eyes. "Can we not talk about this around the girls?" he said as he glanced toward Aria and me.
I held my hands up. "Don't filter your guy talk on my account."
Aria looked over at Cohen. "Yeah, I have no idea what y’all are even talking about.”
Maddox pointed his fork at Cohen. "See. They're chill. Now, did you take her home or not?"
I tried not to pay attention—instead, my eyes burned a hole into my plate.
"If I said it was just okay, why would I take her home?" Cohen countered.
Maddox scoffed. "Bro. You've taken a girl home for a lot less."
Shane and Beckham exchanged amused looks.
Aria muttered something under her breath that made Drake choke on his drink.
Needing to remove myself from this conversation, I stood up, grabbed whatever empty dishes I saw, and took them to the sink. I began cleaning off the dishes when Cohen approached. "Hey, you don't need to do that."
I shook my head, "It's no problem. You got us all dinner; I can at least do dishes." I focused on the plate I was scrubbing.
"I didn't take that girl home, Ava," he said quietly.
"It's none of my business if you did or not. You’re single, you can take home whoever you want." I continued scrubbing, still unable to look up at him.
He placed a hand on my arm. I regrettably loved the warmth that spread through me.
Fuck my body's reaction to this man. My body’s a traitor.
"Ava. Does it bother you that I went on a date with someone?" he asked softly.
The tone, the gentleness, made something twist in my chest. Like he thought I might break. Like he felt sorry for me.
It pissed me off.
"No? Why would it bother me?" I rushed out, still scrubbing, a slight edge to my voice.
"Are you sure? Because you won't look at me, and you've been scrubbing the same plate for the past five minutes."
I quickly set the plate down and grabbed another. I blew out a steadying breath before bringing my eyes to meet his. "Yes. I'm sure. You should go out and have fun. You've been in the baby trenches with me long enough, Ellie's getting easier."
His brows pulled together as he searched my face. He went silent for a beat.
"Okay." He lingered a moment, as if waiting for something, but I stayed quiet. He frowned, turned, and headed back to the group.
I hated his response—hated how it made me feel.
I braced my hands against the edge of the counter and blew out a breath. I thought this would be easier by now.
What if I had told Cohen the truth? That it bothered me that he went on a date with someone else. Then what? Would he choose me then? Would he all of a sudden change the way he’d been operating his entire life? For me, no less?
Doubtful.
I wasn't even sure why it bothered me that he went out with another woman. He’d been going out with other women for as long as I’d known him. Tons of them. It had never bothered me before.
Of course, I found the man incredibly attractive; most women did.
I suspected most of my attachment stemmed from the amount of time we had spent together over the last year because of Ellie.
We had developed a strong, comfortable friendship.
I could rely on him. He showed up. If we removed Ellie from the equation, I wasn't sure we'd be in each other's lives at all.
No way in hell he would want a relationship with me. And would I even want one with him?
I let out a loud groan, which turned into a high-pitched shriek when a loud knock at my door scared the living daylights out of me. I glanced at the monitor to make sure I hadn’t accidentally woken Ellie.
Phew, still sleeping.
I padded over towards the door and swung it open to one of my favorite people in the entire world.
My big brother, Weston.
Weston was the oldest of the James four, and the biggest. He was a Navy SEAL, six-foot-five, and built like a professional athlete. He was quiet, calculated and observant.
Hell, he was a trained killer.
Weston intimidated most people with his stature, menacing stare, and thick arms covered in tattoos, but I knew better. Where Walker was loudly protective, Weston was my soft place to land. He and I looked the most like our dad, whereas Addison and Walker shared similar features to our mom.
Most people would peg Weston as the protector, and he was, but not in the same way as Walker. He and I had a special relationship—we always had. I'd had a tough time growing up with three incredibly talented older siblings, but Weston always made me feel seen.
"West!" I lunged myself into his giant arms. He wrapped them around me and squeezed tight. I hadn't seen him in several months; he’d been on a mission. Whenever he was away for long periods of time, I never felt settled until he was home and I knew he was okay. That he was safe.
"Good to finally see you Avs." He glanced around my apartment and whistled low. "Nice place. Cohen hooked it up, huh?"
I led him toward the living room. "Yeah, you could say that," I chuckled. “Still makes me uncomfortable that he’s paying for it, though.”
“Ava. Take the help. Taking care of a baby is a lot.” He took a seat while I grabbed him a water. "So, where’s my niece I have yet to meet?"
I handed him the water. "She's napping, but she'll be up soon." I settled onto the couch next to him.
Weston lifted his hat off his head and scrubbed a hand through his dark hair, his hazel eyes flicked toward me. "How's it going with Cohen? Everything good?"
I shrugged. "Yeah, it's fine. He's a great dad, so I can't complain." I rushed out the last part.
He narrowed his eyes. "Ava."
I mirrored his expression. "West."
"Cut the shit. I can tell something is bothering you. You know you can't hide from me." He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle, taking a small sip, eyes never leaving mine. I hated how well he knew me. Addison and Walker would take my response and move on, but not Weston.
I dropped my head back on a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. "Honestly. I don't even know what’s bothering me." I paused. "Correction. I don't know why it’s bothering me."
Weston remained silent. Allowing me to continue.
I caught Weston up on everything that had happened over the past several months, obviously leaving out the little slip-up with Cohen. He didn't need to know that.
"So. Yeah. I don't like that he went out on a date with someone else, and I don't know why I wish it was with me." I glanced down at my hands, fiddling nervously. "No one ever chooses me," I said quietly.
Weston didn’t argue right away. He squeezed my hand once—firm and steady. “Ava. That’s bullshit,” he said. “Sometimes I think you focus so much on who doesn’t choose you… you forget how many people already do.”
I swallowed.
“This isn’t about Cohen,” he continued. “It’s about you thinking if someone doesn’t pick you first, it must mean you weren’t worth picking.”
That landed harder.
“He’s being who he’s always been,” Weston went on. “You’re the one attaching meaning to it.” He paused, running a hand across his beard. “And if you want to be with him, that doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. But don’t turn his patterns into proof of your value.”
I sighed. "I know. I mean, I need to remember that."
Weston gave my hand a light squeeze. "Your worth has nothing to do with people's choices, Ava. The right guy will choose you first, every single damn time."
I glanced up at him and forced a smile. I knew he was right, but it still didn't make me feel any better.
A soft cry sounded on the monitor, breaking up the heavy conversation.
I pushed off the couch. "Well, are you ready to meet your niece?"