Page 102 of Worth the Shot

The pain meds are kicking in slowly and for once they don’t make me foggy. They make me honest. Or maybe just too tired to keep pretending this doesn’t feel like everything. She rearranges the blanket again, fussing because it’s how she avoids feeling things.

“You comfortable?” she murmurs, voice soft, sleepy.

“Except for the part where my face looks like roadkill…yeah.”

She snorts, actually snorts. And it sends this stupid flutter through my stomach. Then she reaches out, hesitant at first, and very gently fixes a strand of my hair that’s fallen onto the side of my forehead that isn’t bruised or tape-covered. Her fingers barely graze my skin, but it’s enough to short-circuit every functioning neuron in my brain. Her touch lingers for half a second too long. Just long enough that she realizes it—and snatches her hand back like she’s touched fire.

“Sorry,” she whispers, eyes dropping.

“Don’t be.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to.

She swallows, looking anywhere but at me. The room is dim, only the lamp behind us glowing low and warm. Snow is falling outside the window in slow spirals and everything feels quiet, suspended, like the whole world is holding its breath. She shifts closer without realizing, and her knee presses fully against mine. She glances up, and the look in her eyes…

Kill me now.

She’s tired, vulnerable, walls cracked just enough that I can see straight through to the part of her she never lets anyone touch. Anyone but me.

“Laney…” I whisper.

Her breath stutters. Just once.

Barely noticeable. Except I notice everything.

She hesitates…and then rests her head on my shoulder. Carefully at first, like she’s testing it. Like she’s waiting for me to wince in pain.

I don’t move.

I don’t breathe.

She exhales a shaky, soft breath that ghosts across my neck.

“Please tell me if touching you hurts and DON’T lie,” she says, trying to sound annoyed even as her fingers curl lightly around my forearm. “You need someone keeping you upright, that’s all.”

Yeah. Sure. That’s all.

Her thumb rubs once against my wrist, gentle and involuntary, and that single absentminded touch feels more intimate than I could imagine in this moment.

“I know I keep saying it but…” Her voice is low, almost a whisper. “You really scared me, Bren,” she says, even quieter now. So quiet I almost miss it. “More than I can even begin to process.”

She wipes at a tear that escapes from her eyes and my heart pulls tight in my chest. I want to take all of her worry and pain away, hold it like it’s my own so she doesn’t have to feel it anymore. Instead I tilt my head, barely touching hers.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Laney.”

She shifts again, this time closer so she’s in my arms, head tucked into the crook my neck. Her hand slides down my arm until her fingers slip between mine. Home.

“The thought of losing you, I just—” Her voice breaks and my heart hurts more than anything else on my body hearing the fear in her voice. “I don’t ever want to lose you, Brennan. I can’t ever lose you.” She shakes her head, tears slipping from her pretty eyes.

And that…that’s her giving in. Her walls lowering for me again. Her heart showing.

Her choosing me, even if it took a moment like this to make her realize.

I don’t say anything. I don’t need to. I just tighten my fingers around hers, and I place my chin on her head. Her breath catches and she lets herself sink into me completely, body relaxing against mine like it always has.

Within minutes, her breathing evens out and her hand stays tangled with mine. And before I drift off, one thought fills my chest so completely there’s no room for anything else…

She’s mine.

All mine, and I’m never letting her go.