Page 96 of Verdict

Then I couldn’t be the reason he walked away from it, even if that meant watching him walk away from me.

I swallowed hard, tightening my grip on the reins.

Loving someone wasn’t supposed to feel like this… like choosing them meant losing them at the same time.

Chapter 27

Cohen

Iwas struggling.

I had two days left to give Boston an answer, and my head was a mess. The Aviators couldn’t match Boston’s offer—I’d never expected them to—but their counter was still strong. I hadn’t spoken to Ava about it, even though I knew she’d drafted the term sheet herself. The truth was, I needed time to think without outside influence.

This was the final contract of my career. And the weight of that decision sat heavy on my shoulders.

Luckily for my sanity, Walker was in town. He’d just announced he was coming back to the Aviators as a pitching coach.

I took the elevator up to his penthouse, then made my way through his foyer and into the kitchen. He was already sitting at the counter with a beer in hand. He slid another bottle across the island toward me.

“Thanks. I need this.” I took a long pull and flashed him a grateful smile.

Walker nodded. “I know. I heard about Boston. Figured that’s why you’re here.”

I settled onto the barstool beside him. “I don’t know what to do, man.”

Walker went quiet, spinning the bottle between his fingers. “Well, Coh,” he said finally. “Logically speaking, Boston’s a no-brainer. Career-wise. Money-wise.” His eyes lifted to mine. “But somehow I get the feeling that’s not what this is about anymore.”

I glanced at him—and a memory from almost a decade ago hit me like a freight train.

Eighteen-year-old Ava sat on that exact stool, wearing Walker’s jersey, a slice of pizza in one hand, and mischief shining in those dark blue eyes. She took my breath away the moment my eyes landed on her. I tried to stay away that night but failed miserably. I hung on every word that came out of her mouth. Ava was smart, confident, an absolute force.

Everything about her pulled me in.

Walker wasn't an idiot; he picked up on it immediately. I still remember the threats and warnings he threw at me the following day. Luckily for me—and probably for my survival—Ava left for the West Coast not long after.

I hadn’t let myself think about that night in a long time.

"Cohen." Walker's voice broke me from the memory.

I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. "Sorry."

“Where’d you go?”

“About ten years back,” I muttered.

Walker studied me for a beat.

“Yeah,” I continued. “Things are different now. I have a daughter.” I shrugged. “Makes everything more complicated.”

But this wasn’t about Ellie, and I was pretty sure Walker knew that.

He chuckled softly, like he could see straight through my bullshit. “You’re really good at convincing yourself you don’t want things,” he said. “You know that?”

My eyes snapped to his, brows knitting together. “What does that mean?”

Walker’s gaze dropped to the beer bottle in his hand. He ran a thumb through the condensation as it dripped down the side. “I lost nine years with Farrah,” he said quietly. “Nine fucking years.” He let out a rough breath. “Yeah, she broke up with me. But I didn’t fight for her. I was hurt she left when I needed her most, so instead I stepped aside. Because that's what she wanted, because I thought it was probably for the best.” His jaw tightened. “Then, when the opportunity came back around four years after that… I let fear win again.”

He looked up at me.