Page 82 of Verdict

Walker narrowed his eyes at a few of us before clearing his throat. "We decided on Jordan West James.”

Cohen choked on his water. Weston cocked his head to the side and failed miserably at hiding his smile.

Cohen pushed to stand and pulled Walker into a hug. When they pulled apart, he squeezed Walker's shoulders. "That means a lot, man. Wow." I could hear the slight break in his voice.

Walker smiled. "You're part of my family. You're my best friend and the best dad I know."

Weston stood and pulled my other brother into a hug. "Thanks, brother."

"I wouldn't have this—" he gestured toward Farrah. "If it wasn't for you."

Weston's eyes shone, only for a brief moment, before he quickly swallowed down the emotion as he nodded.

"Hey! I was the one who yelled at you to talk to her!" Addison huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ellie's middle name is your name, you drama queen." He turned his attention back to Weston. "Plus, I also thought it would be nice to not have the West name go to waste and have another professional athlete in the family."

Without hesitation, Weston punched Walker square in the arm, causing the table to erupt in laughter.

I sat back, gently bouncing Ellie in my lap, watching as Cohen became even further embedded in my family.

My mind flashed into the future—was this how it would always be? Him here. At this table. In every holiday photo. Part of the family.

Just never mine.

I suddenly felt sick. The pie sat heavy in my stomach at the thought of Cohen always being in my life, always right there. But there for Ellie and for Walker. Not me.

Weston came up behind my chair and placed both of his large hands on my shoulders. I glanced up at him with a soft smile.

"Let me take Ellie, go grab yourself some more wine," he winked. But he knew. He saw it written all over my face—the uncertainty, the sadness. Weston could always read me.

I nodded and handed Ellie to him as I made my way into the kitchen. I grabbed one of my dad's red blends and poured myself a hefty glass.

I felt him before I saw him.

Cohen came up behind me and softly placed his hand low on my back as he leaned in front of me to grab a bottle of wine. When he removed his hand, I instantly missed the warmth of the contact.

As he poured wine into his glass, he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "You having a good time, Trouble?"

I forced a smile. "Yeah. It's been nice to have everyone under one roof; we don't get to do it very often anymore."

He took a sip from his glass as he settled his back against the counter. "Thanks for letting me crash. It's nice being around your family." He glanced down at his boots. "I haven't had that in a long time," he said quietly.

"Well, my family loves you, so you are obviously always welcome here." The sentiment felt strained.

His eyes locked on mine, causing my breath to hitch at the intensity of his stare. He reached out and ran his hand down my arm until my hand was in his. He squeezed gently, dropping his gaze to our hands. "It means a lot."

The words hung between us like he wanted to say more.

But he didn't.

Ignoring how good his hand felt in mine, I pulled mine away and busied myself with putting away some of the dishes. Turning my back to him, needing the space.

He straightened and came up behind me, closing the distance between us again. He played with the ends of my hair, letting them sift through his fingers softly. I didn't know why he kept touching me, but a pathetic part of me also didn't want to ask him to stop. He’d been finding excuses to be near me all night. Small touches. Lingering looks. Like he was trying to close a distance neither of us had named.

Cohen leaned down so his mouth brushed against my ear. "You look beautiful tonight, Ava." His breath against my skin sent a tremor through me.

The wine was flowing. His hand was warm. His voice was low. This was how it always started. The heat, the chemistry between us… and nothing else.