14. Ava
Ava
Ispent most of the morning refusing to look at my balcony.
What the hell was I thinking?
Was I going to Primrose Hill this afternoon?
No… but Cohen didn’t need to know that.
I needed space. Time to process everything that had happened between us last night—because something had shifted.
The lines between us were blurring, sliding into territory that wasn’t safe.
Things were becoming more emotionally intimate than they should, and I could feel myself losing the careful control I’d worked so hard to maintain… again.
And damn it, I craved him in a way that terrified me.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were just supposed to be friends, keep Ellie’s life uncomplicated. Stable.
But whenever I was around Cohen, control slipped through my fingers like sand. I’d tried to keep him at arm’s length, tried to keep him out, but he had a way of finding the cracks, of pressing gently until he was suddenly everywhere.
Last night, he’d opened up to me in a way I hadn’t expected. He’d told me about his past, and for the first time, I felt like I truly understood him. My heart ached for the child he’d been. For the teenager who’d been forced to grow up too fast, who’d lost more than anyone should at that age.
And for one dangerous moment—between caring for our sick daughter and his fingers stroking my hair as I drifted off with my head in his lap—I let myself imagine it.
What life could look like if we were together.
If we were a family.
But I knew better.
Men like Cohen Jordan didn’t choose women like me. I would be the person he leaned on when it was convenient. The occasional fuck. The constant presence he didn’t have to risk anything for, because I was already tied to his life through our daughter. No grand gestures. No real commitment.
Always the good time.
The confidant.
Good for right now.
Never the one.
It wasn’t a new fear. It was an old one. I’d learned early on what it felt like to be wanted—but never chosen.
Back in high school, I had friends. Lots of them.
I was never alone, but I was rarely anyone’s first call.
Aria went to high school in Forest Park, and outside of her, I hovered on the edge of other people’s lives, close enough to be included, never close enough to be essential.
Surface-level friendships that looked full from the outside.
I was constantly surrounded by people, and yet incredibly alone.
I tried to fix myself. Tried to be the kind of girl people picked.
In college, I rushed a sorority, convinced that if I could just belong to something, the rest would fall into place.
I didn’t get a bid. The rejection came quickly, clean and impersonal, and it lodged itself somewhere deep.
I’d thought I was forming real connections with some of the girls, but it turned out to be an act.
Another confirmation of what I’d already suspected.
I wasn’t what they wanted.
Something was missing. I was lacking.
It wasn’t any better when it came to boys.
In high school and college, there were always boys who liked me.
They wanted me, sure. I was the fun girl.
Easy to be around. We had a good time, and once they got what they wanted, they moved on.
I was the girl they spent time with, the girl they slept with, before they met the one they took home for the holidays.
I watched them move on with unsettling ease, as if I’d only ever been a placeholder.
I wasn’t the type of girl you got serious with.
Being the almost had changed me in ways I hadn't realized.
After enough disappointments, I'd learned how to stay ahead of the hurt.
Keep things casual. Keep them physical. So I'd spent years keeping men at arm's length, convincing myself I preferred casual.
That I only wanted fun. Easier to keep things physical than risk wanting more.
Easier to walk away first than wait to see if someone would choose me.
The truth was, if I never expected more, I never had to face the possibility that I wouldn't be chosen. If a relationship never became anything meaningful, nobody could leave me feeling like I wasn't enough.
The only place I ever felt chosen was in my ambition.
USC wanted me.
Law school wanted me.
Austin wanted me.
I worked until my worth was measurable. Until acceptance came in the form of emails, offer letters, and promotions—things no one could quietly take back.
Since high school, I poured most of myself into my education, my career, and my horses.
They were my steady constants. No hesitation.
Never wavering. Never leaving me wondering where I stood.
The way people always did.
After what happened last night, I would just re-establish the much-needed boundaries between Cohen and me. It was better that way—friendship and nothing more. It was safer that way. I wouldn't feel the sting, the heart-sinking rejection of not being chosen, if I didn't allow myself to be a choice.
At least I had control over that.
It had been a few days since I’d last seen Cohen—he was on the road again. This time, I was grateful for the distance. I needed it to get my head on straight.
My maternity leave was coming to a close, and I was dreading my return to the office. I loved being a lawyer, but I could feel myself outgrowing my current firm. I wanted something different. Something with more flexibility now that I was a mom.
I’d seen it happen before—talented women quietly leaving after having kids, all of them voicing the same frustration.
The firm just wasn’t mother-friendly. I’d interned there during my summers in law school, and when they’d offered me a position after graduation, I’d accepted without hesitation.
Back then, I wasn’t even sure I wanted kids.
Amazing how quickly things could change.
Now I couldn’t imagine my life without Ellie. I’d toured a few daycares, but none of them felt right, which only sent my stress spiraling higher.
I had just settled Ellie down for a nap when my phone vibrated against the kitchen counter. I hurried down the hall, definitely not hoping it was Cohen. He usually texted throughout the day when he was on the road, but I’d barely heard from him.
I grabbed my phone and exhaled when Walker’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hey, Walk. What’s up?”
“Avs! How’s Ellie doing?”
“She’s good. Just got her down for a nap.” I tapped my fingers against the counter, already waiting for him to get to the point.
“So,” he said, stretching the word out, “I was talking to Duke yesterday, and he mentioned he’s looking to add another lawyer to the team’s legal department.
He needs someone who specializes in contracts—someone to oversee all the players’ agreements.
I might’ve… dropped your name.” Duke Preston owned the Austin Aviators.
“Are you serious?” My pulse kicked up instantly. Working for a professional sports team’s legal counsel would be a dream.
Walker chuckled. “Very serious. Farrah mentioned you’ve been stressed about maternity leave ending and going back to your firm. The Aviators have on-site daycare. I figured being able to see Ellie whenever you needed might make the transition easier.”
My chest tightened. I wanted to cry. This would lift a crushing weight I hadn’t known how to name. My career and my daughter could actually be in the same place.
Okay. Slow down, Ava. You don’t have the job yet.
“And,” Walker continued, “this would also make it easier for Coh to see Ellie when he’s at the field.”
Cohen. Shit.
I hadn’t even considered what working for the team would mean for us. We needed space. Boundaries. Some kind of reset. And this? This would put me directly in his orbit, every day. I wasn’t even sure how he’d feel about it.
“That sounds incredible, Walk. Thank you for mentioning me,” I said honestly. Then hesitated. “How long do I have to think about it?”
He scoffed. “Think about it? Ava, this is a no-brainer. HR will be calling you this week to set up an interview. You can think about it after you get the offer.”
I blew out a breath. “Okay. I can do that.”
“Good. You’re going to crush it, Avs. This is a good thing. Don’t get in your head about it.”
The line went dead, leaving me standing alone in the kitchen, my heart pulled in opposite directions—buzzing with excitement and knotted with dread.
Farrah was in Austin for a quick meeting with Duke Preston.
Thanks to her incredible renovation of the Aviators’ clubhouse, he’d hired her to renovate the executive offices as well.
The project was already well underway, so she popped in and out of Austin frequently—Walker had kept his penthouse in the city.
This trip, she’d brought Hadley with her, and we decided to meet up at a nearby park.
I was settled on a bench overlooking the playground, Ellie snoozing in her stroller, when Farrah and Hadley approached. Hadley immediately took off toward the slide.
“Hi, Auntie Avs! Bye Auntie Avs!” she yelled over her shoulder.
I laughed and stood to hug Farrah. “I’m glad y’all could meet up this afternoon. I needed to get out of the apartment.”
Farrah smiled, tilting her face toward the sun. “I bet. It’s a gorgeous day.”
I nodded toward Hadley. “I’m surprised you brought her since you had a meeting.”
Farrah sat down beside me on the bench. “Duke doesn’t care. He usually insists I bring her. He loves kids, and everyone in the office loves Hadley.”
I’ll file that little tidbit away for later.
“Wow. That’s amazing,” I said. “I love that.” I glanced toward her stomach, "How are you feeling? Baby boy giving you any trouble?"
She shook her head, placing a hand over her little bump. "Not yet, thankfully. I was so sick with Hadley, I really didn’t want to have to go through that again." She looked into the stroller and smiled softly. “How’s our girl?”
“She’s great,” I said, my voice instinctively lowering.
“I can’t help but think she misses Cohen, though.
I know that’s silly—she’s so young—but sometimes it feels like she looks for him in the room.
” My eyes dropped to my lap. “When she sees him on FaceTime, her face lights up like you wouldn’t believe. ”
“She loves her daddy,” Farrah said gently. “Girls always do.”
I nodded. “Doesn’t help that she’s starting to look exactly like him.”
Farrah laughed. “I wasn’t going to say anything…”
I let out a defeated sigh. “It’s fine. She still has my blue eyes.”
“That she does.” Farrah’s attention drifted back to the playground where Hadley was climbing up the slide backward. After a moment, she spoke again. “So. Walker told me about the job with the Aviators. What do you think?”
I watched Hadley reach the top of the slide and throw her arms in the air in triumph. “I think it’s an incredible opportunity. Like, dream job territory. And the on-site daycare is definitely the icing on the cake.”
Farrah squeezed my leg. “So, what’s the hesitation I hear?”
I met her gaze. “Cohen.”
“What about Cohen?”
“It’s just…” I exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. It feels like a lot. A lot of time around each other. I’m already the mother of his daughter and now I could potentially be in his workplace too. I feel like I’d be everywhere, and I don’t know how he’d feel about that, or if he’d even want that.”
Farrah was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “You need to stop worrying about Cohen and start worrying about you, Ava.” She continued before I could respond.
“Like you said, this is a dream job. And I can tell you firsthand how family-friendly the environment is. It solves real problems for you, and that matters. I’d like to think Cohen would want that for you and Ellie.
” She smiled slightly. “And the team travels constantly. It’s not like your desk is on the field. ”
“True,” I said with a small laugh.
“You deserve stability and whatever makes you happy,” she added. “And so does Ellie.”
She was right. I knew she was.
“I need to do what’s best for me and Ellie,” I said quietly.
And I meant it.
Still, as I looked down at Ellie—her tiny hand curled around the edge of her blanket, her breathing soft and even—unease settled in my stomach. Because doing what was best for us didn’t erase the questions waiting on the other side of that choice.
What would Cohen think?
How close would this put us?
How much more complicated would everything become?
Agreeing with Farrah felt right. Living with the consequences though, felt anything but simple.