17. Ava
Ava
The night we celebrated my new job at Cohen’s place over takeout boxes and champagne had been easy. Comfortable. It felt like our friendship was finally getting back on track, like whatever tension had been hanging between us had loosened its grip. Things felt lighter. Safer.
Cohen had gotten back from a road series last night, so I hadn’t seen him in a few days.
When I told him about my plans to take Ellie to Primrose Hill today—my parents wanted some time with her, and I wanted to ride—he’d immediately insisted on coming along.
His next game wasn’t for a couple of days, so staying over at my parents’ house made sense.
The plan was to head back to Austin early the next morning.
The second we walked through my parents’ front door, my mom swooped in and stole Ellie straight from my arms.
“There’s my girl,” she murmured, already kissing Ellie’s cheeks.
“Hey,” I said, planting my hands on my hips. “What about me?”
My dad stepped in and pulled me into a hug. “You’re still my girl,” he chuckled.
We lingered for a bit, my dad and Cohen falling easily into baseball talk—my dad had played at the University of Texas, just like Walker—while my mom promptly forgot I existed, fully absorbed in Ellie on the living room floor.
Eventually, I glanced at the time. “All right. I need to head over to Addison’s. I told her I’d be there in fifteen to ride Bentley.” I turned to Cohen. “I can show you your room really quick?”
He followed me upstairs. “You can stay here,” I said, pushing open the door. “It’s Walker’s old room. Mine’s two doors down on the right.” I pointed down the hall. “The bathroom’s right across.”
Cohen took one look around and grimaced. “I don’t know if I can sleep in here,” he said. “This room is covered in Longhorn shit.” He used to play at the University of Tennessee, which he referred to as the ‘real UT.’
I rolled my eyes. “You’ll survive. Weston’s coming in this afternoon, otherwise I’d offer you his room.” I shoved my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “Were you wanting to go to Walker’s? I can drop you off on the way to Addison’s.”
“Nah. I think I’ll come watch you ride—if that’s okay?”
I blinked, surprised. “You want to watch me ride?”
He nodded easily. “Yeah. After getting on a horse, I’ve got a newfound respect for equestrians.” The corner of his mouth tipped up. “I’ve never seen you jump. I think it’d be cool.”
I couldn’t stop the grin from forming. I’m not sure I’d ever had a guy interested in watching me ride.
“Okay,” I said, a little too quickly. “Cool. Let me change into my riding clothes, and we’ll head out.”
The moment we pulled through the gates of Addison’s farm, it felt like coming home.
The long stretch of white fence, horses grazing lazily, the sweet smell of hay.
Here, I knew who I was—no questions, no doubt.
Horses grounded me in a way people never could.
Cohen had barely parked the car before I was already halfway out the door.
Addison was waiting for us by the crossties. When she spotted us, she smiled. “Hey, y’all. I didn’t think I’d be seeing Cohen today.” She pulled him into a hug before wrapping me in one as well.
“She let me tag along,” Cohen said, tipping his head toward me. “I wanted to watch her jump.”
What I was fairly certain was a shit-eating grin spread across Addison’s face as her eyes flicked between the two of us. “I love that,” she finally said. “Dean’s around here somewhere—I’m sure he’d love to catch up. He’s got a lot of… opinions about the game the other night.” She laughed softly.
Cohen scoffed. “Trust me. So do I.” The Aviators had taken a tough loss on the road, and the next home series would decide whether they advanced in the playoffs.
I clapped my hands together. “Where’s my Bentley boy?” I said, ready to get this show on the road.
“Levi’s bringing him in from the paddock now,” Addison said. "I'll meet you in the ring." She turned and headed out toward the arena.
As if on cue, Levi rounded the corner with the large gray gelding following obediently behind him. After placing Bentley in the crossties and exchanging hellos, he headed back toward the paddocks.
I gave Bentley a quick brush before tacking him up, and when I glanced over my shoulder, I had to consciously stop myself from laughing. Cohen was rooted in place, staring up at Bentley with wide eyes.
“You good, CoJo?” I smirked.
“Yeah,” he said quickly, taking a step back. “Yep. I’m good.” His gaze traveled slowly from Bentley’s hooves up to his face. “He’s just… way bigger than Walker’s horses.”
I laughed as I tightened the girth. “Yeah, he’s a big guy. But he’s a sweetheart.” I grabbed a peppermint from the treat jar Addison kept nearby and held it out to Cohen. “Just keep your hand flat, remember?”
His brows pinched together. “He’s not going to take my hand off?”
I pressed my lips together to hold in the laughter that threatened to escape. “No. He might lick you, though.”
Cohen approached cautiously. Bentley pricked his ears and lowered his head, happily taking the treat and crunching it between his teeth. I heard Cohen release a shaky breath as his shoulders dropped.
“See?” I said, patting Bentley’s shoulder. “He's a good guy.”
Cohen nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips, his hazel eyes lit with something like awe—as if feeding a horse a peppermint was a major personal accomplishment.
Once Bentley was bridled, I grabbed my helmet and led him toward the arena. I checked the girth again, dropped my stirrups, and positioned him at the mounting block. The farm was quiet today, the ring blissfully empty.
Cohen leaned against the rail beside Addison as Dean joined them.
I warmed Bentley up, letting him stretch before putting him to work.
We moved through ground poles, lateral work, and trot-to-canter transitions.
Addison was still refining his lead changes, so I focused on simple changes instead.
Bentley felt incredible—responsive, tuned in, exactly where I needed him.
Satisfied, I patted his neck and walked him over. “He feels fantastic. A little dull off my left leg at first, but he got better the more I worked him,” I told Addison.
Addison smiled. “Yeah, that left drift can be tough with him. Ready to jump?”
I nodded. “Let’s do it.”
She set a small course, keeping the height conservative while Bentley was still green. He was perfect—patient when I held him, eager when I asked him to move up. When Addison raised the jumps, he didn’t hesitate; his form only improved.
When we finished, I let him walk on a long rein, heading back toward the rail where Cohen and Dean waited, Addison walking beside me.
Cohen looked up, grinning. “That was badass. You make it look so easy—and I would know, since I’ve now been on a horse and all.”
Dean shook his head at Cohen as he huffed out a laugh.
“He looked really good, Ava.” Dean patted Bentley’s neck before glancing over at Addison. “You might need to give this one to her,” he teased.
Addison rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. “I bought him for me, thank you very much.”
“Doesn’t mean he wasn’t meant for me.” I needled before leaning forward to wrap my arms around Bentley’s neck. “I love him.”
With Weston in town and my parents watching Ellie, we all decided to meet up for a drink at our favorite local bar, Hops & Hills.
When Cohen and I walked in, my siblings and their significant others were already gathered around a long table near the pool tables and dartboards.
The place smelled like fried food and cheap beer, country music humming low through the speakers.
I settled in next to Addison and Farrah while Cohen stayed standing with Dean, watching Walker and Weston argue aggressively over a dartboard.
Addison pushed a beer in my direction. I lifted it and took a grateful sip. “Thanks. Where’s Harper? I thought she’d be here.”
She shook her head. “She's in Boston. She and Archer went to visit her mom for a few days.”
“Got it.” I smiled. “I’m so excited for them. Has she picked a wedding date yet?”
“Not officially,” Addison said. “But she’s leaning toward winter next year.”
I nodded, then glanced over toward the dartboard. Walker was gesturing dramatically, pointing at something, while Weston stood there with his arms crossed, unimpressed and immovable.
“I swear to God,” I muttered, “we cannot take them anywhere.”
Farrah scoffed and shook her head with a laugh. “Trust me. If my brothers were here? It'd be a whole lot worse.”
Dean leaned over from where he was standing and shot her a look. “It's better they're not." He looked from Farrah to Addison. "Your two families have personally traumatized this bar enough.”
Addison snorted. “Says the man who hooked up with me in the bar's bathroom. Hate to break it to you, Adler, but you're a part of this family now too."
Dean choked on his beer. “I thought we agreed we were done bringing that up?”
“Correction,” Addison said sweetly. “You agreed.”
Farrah leaned in toward me. “Bathroom’s old news. They just fuck in horse stalls now,” she stage-whispered.
Dean looked up at the ceiling as if he were asking for patience. Addison and I laughed, but my attention drifted back to Cohen.
He was relaxed, one shoulder leaning against the wall, an easy grin on his face as he talked with my brothers. He looked like he belonged there. Like he’d always belonged there.
And I hated how much I loved that.
The guys finally abandoned the dartboard and joined us. Walker kissed the top of Farrah's head as he sank into the seat beside her. Dean draped an arm around Addison.
That quiet ache hit me again. I couldn't help the pang of jealousy I felt as I watched them.
Weston caught me staring and held my gaze for a beat too long before taking a slow sip of his beer.
Cohen came up behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders. He squeezed gently, leaning down so his mouth brushed close to my ear. “You want another beer?” The low rumble of his voice sent a small shiver down my spine.
I turned slightly to look up at him. “Yeah. Thanks.”
He squeezed once more before heading toward the bar.
I caught my older brother’s eye again. "Ava, come play pool with me." Weston tilted his head in the direction of the pool tables. I nodded and followed behind him.
He quietly racked the balls while I lined up the break. The crack of the cue ball echoed through the bar, one solid dropping into the corner pocket.
“Not bad,” he muttered.
I lined up my next shot, but missed.
Weston circled the table slowly, calculating. Without looking at me, he said, “You like him.”
I stilled, leaning against my pool stick. “Of course I like him. He’s the father of my daughter.”
He sank his first shot cleanly. “Ava,” he said flatly. “Don’t play stupid with me.” Another ball disappeared into the pocket. “There are serious feelings there.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re just friends. I had a crush on him like ten years ago. And sure. Yeah. I still think he's hot… but that’s where it ends.”
He lined up again and didn’t miss. “And I don’t think it’s one-sided,” he continued as if I hadn't said anything.
That made me pause.
“No,” I said quickly. “He doesn’t do relationships. I know him. It’s better if we keep things the way they are. Especially for Ellie.”
Weston straightened and finally looked at me. “You think I don’t see the way he looks at you?” He leaned over and took his next shot, easily sinking the ball into the corner pocket.
My stomach flipped.
“He’s been looking at you like that since before Ellie,” Weston added.
He didn’t miss his next shot either. He leaned on his pool stick, studying me. “You two are either going to figure it out… or you’re going to waste a whole lot of time pretending.”
I scoffed lightly. “You sound like Aria.”
“Huh. Imagine that," he said dryly, another ball going into the pocket.
Behind him, I saw Cohen at the bar, laughing at something Walker said. Completely unaware that he was the topic of conversation. His eyes found mine, as they often did, and a soft smile tugged at his lips.
My breath caught.
Weston followed my gaze, before leaning over and sending another ball down the table. “Just… don’t wait too long,” he said quietly. “Some things don’t stay on the table forever.”
He stepped up and sank the eight ball.
Game over.
He set his pool stick down and walked off like he hadn't just schooled me in both pool and life.
It was well past midnight, and I lay wide awake staring at the ceiling of my childhood bedroom. My parents set up Ellie's pack ‘n play in Addison's old room next door, so I was alone—the silence deafening, the darkness almost suffocating.
I played Weston's words in my head on repeat. You two are either going to figure it out… or you’re going to waste a whole lot of time pretending.
What Weston saw was friendship, a comfort between two people who had a child together.
But then why did every glance, every small touch, light my body on fire?
It has to be the four beers.
That’s all this was.
Thoughts of Cohen flooded my mind anyway. All the times we’d crossed the line. All the times I’d wanted to again and stopped myself. The way his voice dropped low when he said my name. The way his hands felt against my skin. How well he knew my body.
Heat pooled low in my belly, an ache building between my thighs.
Before I could overthink it, I slipped my hand beneath the covers, trailing lower. My head tipped back against the pillow, eyes closing as I circled my clit, fingers sliding inside to the image of him—his mouth at my ear, his breath hot against my skin, his hands on my body.
The one man who would never choose me.
That thought alone should have cooled me down.
It didn’t.
But I still couldn’t quite get there. My body was ready, but my mind wasn’t. The noise in my head was too loud. I pulled my hand away with a frustrated groan, the ache still humming beneath my skin. Restless and wired.
Needing something… needing him.
I threw the covers off and slipped out of bed, bare feet quiet against the hardwood floor. The hallway was dark, the house asleep. I told myself I was just checking to see if he was awake. That was all.
I tiptoed down the hall toward Walker’s old room.
This is such a bad idea.
I stopped outside his door, heart pounding in my chest. I pressed my ear gently against the wood.
Silence. He must be asleep.
Remember what happened last time?
We had just gotten our friendship back on track. Just found our rhythm again. Boundaries were safely back in place.
I rested my forehead softly against the door and let out a slow breath. This wasn’t just about sex. That was the problem.
I stepped back, forcing my feet to move, turning quietly toward my own room. Where I belonged.
Once I was back under my covers, I stared into the dark, pushing Weston’s words aside and trying to ignore the truth settling heavy in my chest.
Don't wait too long. Some things don’t stay on the table forever.
I didn’t just want to fuck Cohen tonight.
I wanted more. The kind of more neither of us was supposed to want.