Page 35 of Verdict

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.”