Page 59 of Verdict

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?”