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But I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. And if that means putting in the hard work, facing the tough conversations, and tearing down those walls brick by brick, then so be it.
Chapter 24
Austin
Ilean back against the cool marble countertop, a glass of whiskey in hand. The ice clinks softly as I take a slow sip, the burn of the alcohol grounding me. Across the kitchen island, Cohen rummages through the fridge, pulling out leftovers from last night's dinner.
"Thai again?" he chuckles, glancing over at me with that familiar crooked grin.
"Better than whatever take-out you'd have ordered," I retort, my tone light but firm. The mundane banter, the comfortable back-and-forth—it's our way of keeping the peace, avoiding the tension simmering just beneath the surface.
Cohen plates up the food and slides into a chair. We eat in silence for a few moments before I set down my fork, my thoughts drifting to the woman who's turned my life sideways. Skylar.
"Can we talk?" I ask, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
"About what? The Henderson merger or the fact that we're out of coffee?" Cohen replies, his attempt at humor falling flat between us.
"Skylar," I say, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. There's no point in dancing around the issue anymore.
He pauses mid-chew, his expression closing off for a moment before he swallows and nods. "Yeah, okay."
"Look, we've shared women before, but this..." I trail off, struggling to find the right words. This would be different. Permanent, even. My fingers tighten around my glass.
"Isn’t temporary," Cohen finishes for me, his voice low. He leans back, running a hand through his hair. "This wouldn't be like those other times."
"Exactly." I stand, pacing the length of the kitchen. "So how do you feel about all this?"
There's a long pause. Cohen's gaze meets mine, a silent understanding passing between us. We're brothers, bonded by blood in every sense, but this...this is new territory.
"I don't know, Austin." His voice is laced with an honesty that catches me off guard. "It's complicated with her."
"Complicated," I echo, feeling the weight of that word settle in my chest. It's not just about sharing Skylar; it's about the tangled web of emotions she's awakened in each of us. Emotions I'm not sure any of us are ready to navigate. Well, except Theo. He knows exactly what he wants when it comes to Skylar Deveraux.
"Look, we need to figure this out," I say, stopping in front of him. "Before it’s—"
"Too late?" Cohen suggests, and there’s a resigned edge to his voice.
"Right." I take another drink, the whiskey doing little to soothe the restless energy coursing through me.
The ice in my glass clinks as I set it down, the sharp sound slicing through the silence. My eyes narrow, locking onto Cohen's. "You're holding something back."
Cohen shifts in his seat, a flicker of unease crossing his features. He runs a hand over his stubble, a tell that never fails to betray his discomfort. "Skylar," he starts, his voice rough around the edges, "she was the one I met in Vegas."
"Vegas?" The word echoes in my head. "Why the hell didn't you say anything before now?"
He hesitates, tension coiling around us like a serpent. His deep blue eyes look stormy, clouded with memories he'd rather forget. "It was right after..." His voice trails off, but there's no need for him to finish the sentence. Right after his wife left him shattered.
"Go on," I prod, a bitter taste creeping into my mouth.
"I was a mess, Austin." He fidgets with his watch, his movements betraying his calm facade. "I barely remembered anything from that trip. Didn't even know it was Skylar until later. Much later. We never exchanged names and she looked…I don’t know, different?"
"Christ, Cohen." I rake a hand through my hair, frustration mounting. "And now?"
His gaze meets mine again, more vulnerable than I've seen in a long time. "Now, it makes sense why I was so drawn to her. Even from the start."
Cohen sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can’t explain it, Austin. But I want her in ways I never expected. It's always felt natural with her. Like we've known each other forever."
A knot forms in my stomach, not from anger, but from something else. Something deep. I swallow hard, my jaw clenching. "You’re telling me you want her? You want this...mess?"