Page 89 of Verdict

God. I would never get tired of kissing her.

It started soft. Careful. Then deeper and hungrier. I trailed my tongue along the seam of her lips and sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, eliciting a soft moan from her before she opened for me. Her hands found my hair, mine found her waist as I pulled her closer. She climbed into my lap. Her body pressed against mine. I groaned as she moved against me, slow and deliberate. I felt every inch of her through the thin fabric between us.

“Fuck, baby” I breathed against her mouth. “God, I’ve missed you.”

My hands slipped under her sweatshirt —

And then she froze.

She rested her forehead against mine, our chests heaving in unison. Her hand lay against my chest like a barricade. "Cohen." Her tone was soft but defeated, sending a bucket of ice water over the top of us.

I opened my eyes. Sadness, fear, regret. All of it staring back at me.

Ava heaved out a shaky sigh, "We can't do this… as much as I want to." She slid off my lap—I missed her immediately. "Every time we do this, things get… complicated. You mean too much to me, and I love our friendship. I’ve missed it. I can't risk ruining that, we almost did before… several times actually. Today was the first time in a while I felt like we were finally back to normal."

I exhaled slowly. “Ava… I’m not trying to make this complicated,” I said quietly. “I just—”

“Cohen.” Her voice cracked slightly this time. “Every time we blur this line, it costs us something.”

I could push. I could tell her she was wrong. That this wasn’t some mistake we kept tripping into. But the look in her eyes wasn’t defiance—It was fear.

And I’d already given her enough of that.

So, I swallowed it.

“Okay." I studied her face. “But, do you really think that’s what this is?” I asked.

She stiffened slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Complicating things,” I said.

Her jaw tightened. “Isn’t it?”

I dragged a hand through my hair, frustrated but trying to stay steady. “Ava, this isn’t some impulse. It’s not just—” I stopped myself before I said too much.

She looked away. And that told me everything. This wasn’t about Ellie. It was about her not believing she was enough. Not believing that I would really choose her, that I could commit. Hell, I didn't exactly have the best track record. I could keep pushing. I could argue. I could promise things I wasn’t even sure how to articulate yet or things I wasn’t even sure I could do. But she’d drawn the line. And if I pushed past it, I’d only prove her point.

I nodded instead. “Okay,” I said again, the word heavier now.

Her shoulders relaxed like she’d been bracing for a fight. That shouldn’t have stung as much as it did. If she wanted safe, I’d give her safe. Give her the stability I could see she needed, not just for Ellie, but for herself as well. Even if safe meant watching her slip just out of reach.

I did the only thing I could in that moment. I backed off. Not because I didn’t want her, but because she wanted friendship. She wanted a partnership she could trust, and to her anything other than friendship with me wasn't it.

Ava pushed up from the couch. She held her hand out for me to take. I slipped my hand in hers, allowing her to pull me up with her. She wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed, laying her cheek against my chest. "I'm going to go to bed. I'll get Ellie tomorrow afternoon. Thank you for everything. It really was a great Christmas." She pulled back to look up at me, a soft smile on her lips. The look in her eyes, sincere.

I placed a gentle kiss against her forehead. "Merry Christmas, Ava."

And in that moment, safe felt a lot like loss.

Chapter 25

Cohen

Iwas dead asleep, dreaming of a very different version of Christmas night with Ava, when the loud vibration of my phone against the nightstand jolted me awake. I blinked toward the clock.

6:30 a.m.

I sat up, dragging a hand down my face, trying to wipe away the remnants of sleep. My phone buzzed again in my hand.