16. Ava
Ava
After dropping off Ellie, I immediately called Aria to see if she could drive into Austin tonight for a girls’ night.
I think the desperation in my voice must have convinced her.
I needed someone to talk to. I felt restless—unsettled—since leaving Ellie with Cohen.
I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my skin.
I was pretty sure I’d royally fucked up my relationship with Cohen for good this time, and I was internally panicking.
How could I be so stupid? So careless? So selfish? We had a daughter, someone who relied on us, someone who would only benefit from us having a solid, steady, consistent relationship. And yet here I was. Unable to keep, for lack of a better term, my lady dick in my pants.
I dragged my hands through my hair and tugged, frustration buzzing under my skin. I’d clearly freaked Cohen out. He’d thrown his walls up faster than my brother’s fastball… not that I'd behaved much better.
An hour or so later, a soft knock sounded at my door, and I rushed to open it.
Aria.
Relief flooded through me at the sight of her, my shoulders sagging as I smiled. Outside of West, she was the only person who really saw me—who knew me to my core.
I pulled her into a tight hug, holding on longer than usual.
When she pulled back, she studied my face carefully. “Everything okay? You sounded… stressed.”
“Stressed is an understatement,” I said, forcing a laugh as I led her into the kitchen. Two large glasses of wine were already waiting on the counter. I handed her one, and she clinked it against mine before taking a sip.
“Well,” she said, settling in, “let’s sit down and you can tell me about it. We’ll figure it out.”
That was Aria. Always steady. Always certain there was a solution—even when I wasn’t.
Once we were curled up on the couch, I rehashed everything. Every sordid detail. I didn’t leave a single thing out. Aria stayed quiet the entire time, sipping her wine slowly. I did, however, notice how much faster she was drinking by the end of my depressing tale.
“So,” I said finally, staring down into my glass, “I’m pretty sure I fucked everything up.”
She exhaled. “Okay. That was… a lot. I hadn’t realized you two had hooked up since—well—since the night Ellie was conceived. I mean, you always flirt, but I didn’t think anything had actually happened outside of that.”
“Yeah. Well. Now you know,” I said flatly. “We’ve hooked up a couple of times since. And now I think I scared him. I shouldn’t have kissed him that night. He opened up to me about his past and what did I do?” I shook my head. “Climbed into his lap and took what I wanted.”
"And then immediately iced him out afterward," Aria tacked on.
I buried my face in my hands, heat crawling up my neck. Mortified.
Aria grabbed my wrist and forced me to look at her. “Ava. You didn’t take what you wanted. He gave it to you. This isn’t just on you.”
I swallowed hard. “We had such a good routine with Ellie. And now it feels like he can't get away from me fast enough. It’s so awkward between us now.” I laughed, sharp and humorless. “My rules existed to prevent exactly this from happening.”
“And you broke them,” Aria said gently.
“And I broke them,” I echoed.
She hesitated. “Can I ask you something?”
I nodded.
“Why can’t you two be together?” she asked. “Have you ever actually talked about trying it out? Because from where I’m sitting, it’s always been obvious you two have a thing for each other. I saw it when we were eighteen.” She smiled faintly.
I shook my head. “We were kids. I had a crush on him—sure—but that’s all it was.
And yes, I still find him hot as hell, but it would never work.
” I sighed. “It’s lust. Nothing more. He doesn’t do relationships.
I’ve known him for almost ten years, and he’s never once had a girlfriend. Commitment isn’t his thing.”
And after everything he told me about his childhood the other night, I understood why. But I wasn’t about to tell Aria that. That was his story to tell.
I leaned back against the couch. “And I’m focused on Ellie. On my career. She needs two parents she can count on—not drama. And that’s exactly what Cohen and I would be.”
Aria didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. She just took another sip of wine.
“What?” I demanded.
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “You want to say something.”
She smirked over the rim of her glass. “I just think you’re both so focused on all the reasons it wouldn’t work that you’re completely blind to the ways it might.”
I rolled my eyes. “I appreciate your optimism, but it’s not happening. I just need to figure out how to get our friendship back on track. The way it was.”
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She leaned over to grab it, a smile spreading across her face.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Drake,” she said. “He sent me a picture of Cohen getting attacked by a butterfly.”
She turned the screen toward me. Cohen’s hand was mid-swat, his face twisted in something between horror and concentration. Ellie was tucked securely in his arms, staring up at him like he hung the moon.
That familiar ache hit hard. The one I felt every time I was without them.
I pushed it down and smiled at Aria. “So, you and Drake just sit around and talk shit about us, huh?” I teased.
She shrugged. “He thinks you two need to get over yourselves too.” She pushed off the couch and held out her hand. “More wine?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “I need it.”
As she headed back to the kitchen, my gaze drifted toward the balcony—memories rushing in, vivid and uninvited.
Were Aria and Drake right?
Were Cohen and I just self-sabotaging?
I wasn’t sure it was worth the risk to find out.
Things hadn’t gotten much better with Cohen, but thankfully, the last week had kept me distracted while I prepared for my interview with the Aviators. And let’s just say—your girl nailed it.
I’d met with the team’s head of counsel, Lane Wesson, along with the rest of their legal department, and immediately felt at ease.
Sixty percent of the team were women. Most of them were mothers.
For the first time in a long time, I felt seen—not just as a lawyer, but as a working mom.
It was a relief and an inspiration all at once, proof that I didn’t have to choose between my daughter and my career. I could have both.
It had been a couple of days since the interview, and I was obsessively checking my phone and email at a truly unhealthy rate. I still hadn’t mentioned any of it to Cohen. It didn’t feel necessary—not until I knew whether this was real or just something I’d built up in my head.
I was staring at my phone, silently willing it to ring.
And then it did.
I nearly dropped it trying to answer in time. “Hello, this is Ava,” I said, attempting—and failing—not to sound breathless.
“Hello, Ms. James. This is Tabitha York, Duke Preston’s assistant. He’d like you to come into the office today, if you’re available.”
My gaze flicked to the baby monitor on the counter; Ellie was sound asleep. Farrah’s words about Duke echoed in my head. I cleared my throat. “I can come by today, the only issue is that I have my daughter with me.” I paused, waiting.
Without hesitation, Tabitha replied, “That won’t be a problem. Bring her with you. Be here at three.”
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone for a moment before lowering it slowly. “Well,” I murmured to the empty kitchen, “okay then.” A smile tugged at my lips as I exhaled. This had to be good news…I needed it to be good news.
By the time three o’clock rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves. I sat in a chair just outside Duke’s office, my knee bouncing uncontrollably as I glanced at his door for the tenth time. Ellie, meanwhile, was happily gnawing on her fist, none the wiser that this might be her mom’s big break.
Tabitha typed furiously at her computer like it had personally offended her. The woman was intimidating in the best way—mid-fifties, silver bob, designer everything, and an undeniable badass. I loved her immediately. Her phone rang, the sharp sound slicing through the quiet.
“Yes, sir,” she said curtly before hanging up. Her eyes flicked toward me. “Mr. Preston is ready for you.”
I smiled and nodded, pushing myself to my feet on shaky legs. I rolled Ellie’s stroller toward the door, and before I could even reach for the handle, it swung open.
“Ava! Is this little Ellie?” Duke Preston asked warmly, already crouching down to tickle Ellie’s belly. She rewarded him with a toothless grin. He straightened, beaming. “Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable.”
I stepped into his office and couldn’t help but pause.
The space was stunning—larger than my old apartment, easily.
Farrah’s renovation was everywhere: modern but inviting, dark wood balanced with lighter accents, the sweeping view of the Austin skyline and the baseball field framed perfectly rather than competing for attention.
“Your sister-in-law did an incredible job, didn’t she?” Duke said proudly.
“She really did,” I said as I settled into a plush chair, parking Ellie’s stroller beside me. “But I’m not surprised. She’s incredibly talented.”
Duke nodded as he took his seat behind the desk.
“So. Talent and ambition must run in your family, because Lane and the rest of the legal team were very impressed with you. They believe you’d be a valuable addition to the Aviators, and after hearing everything they had to say, I couldn’t agree more. ”
He let the words settle, and I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to hear them until that moment.
“Normally Lane would extend the offer,” he continued, “but he’s home with a sick kid today and didn't want to make you wait any longer.” Duke slid a folder across the desk toward me.
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Is this really happening?
The offer letter stared back at me, the salary number making my breath catch. It was far beyond anything I’d expected to see for another five years. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure Duke could hear it.