Page 77 of Verdict

I wrapped my arms around myself and leaned back in the chair, letting my head fall against it as I closed my eyes. Hudson should have been what I wanted. He was what I’d always wanted—a man who chose me and made every effort to show me just that.

The evening breeze rolled in from the hills, goosebumps prickling across my skin. I leaned over and grabbed one of the blankets my mom left out for nights like this.

But why didn’t I want Hudson? I’d built my life around things that were steady and reliable. My career, my horses, my family. And for the most part… it had worked.

Until him.

Cohen was never part of the plan. He was noncommittal, unpredictable, and complicated in every way I tried to avoid. Every time we crossed a line, disaster.

That should’ve been enough to warn me off. Enough to not want anything more.

Shouldn’t it?

I let out a slow breath, staring up at the dark sky.

And somehow… he was the one person whom I could always count on. The one person I always seemed to want.

The house behind me was loud. Full and warm.

I was surrounded by love. By my family. By the people who chose me.

And yet…

I had never felt more alone.

Again.

Constantly surrounded by people—and yet incredibly alone.

Chapter 22

Cohen

Losing in game four of the ALDS stung, especially after winning the World Series last year. But I wasn’t blindsided by it. With Walker’s retirement, we were in a rebuilding phase with our pitching staff. You didn’t replace an arm like his overnight. We’d get there again. We always did.

Baseball had taught me a long time ago that you couldn’t live in the loss. You took it, you learned from it, and you moved on. Dwelling didn’t change the scoreboard. All you could do was adjust and focus on the next game, the next series, the next season.

If only everything in life worked that cleanly.

It was the day before Thanksgiving, and the team’s weight room was relatively empty aside from me, Drake, Beckham, and Hudson. I was reluctantly becoming accustomed to Hudson being a permanent fixture in our group.

I was spotting Drake on the bench press when I overheard Ava’s name come out of Hudson’s mouth. Per usual. My grip tightened on the bar. Also, per usual.

Drake noticed immediately and shoved it back into the rack before sitting up to face me. “Jordan,” he said evenly. “What’s going on? I’m tired of you acting like you’re fine when I can see you’re not.”

The night at the club played on repeat in my head. Hands and lips on me, that I didn’t want. A body pressed against mine that didn’t feel right.

Did I leave with Kate that night?

Yeah.

Did I take her back to my place?

Fuck no.

I told her I was tired and not in the right headspace before I sent her on her way. It wasn’t lost on me that I’d taken a page out of Walker’s book—pulling a stunt just to make someone jealous. It had worked for him. And I needed something—anything—to dull the sting of seeing another man’s hands and mouth on Ava.

I brought my attention back to Drake. “It’s nothing.” I walked toward the free weights, needing to do something with my hands. Drake followed.