Page 61 of Verdict

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.