Page 28 of Worth the Shot

No sense in hiding it. “Delaney. We’re just friends.”

“And I’m a virgin,” she deadpans, balancing my smallest niece on her lap while the kid does everything she can to press buttons on my phone.

“I’m serious. I’d tell you if more was going on.” But there’s not. Not yet, anyway.

One thing I’ve never been able to do is lie to my sisters. They always figure it out. This isn’t a lie though, no matter how much I wish it was.

She gives me a long, suspicious look and then nods. “I believe you,” she says finally, and then adds, “Does this have anything to do with⁠—”

“Nope.” I don’t even let her finish. No need. I’ve done my time, went through the motions. I’m at the point where it’s all just a distant memory that made me who I am today. A little guarded, cautious for sure. But mostly, just protective. Of my time, my energy, my heart.

“Thank God. I can’t bear to even hear her name at this point. Gives me the ick.”

“Irrelevant. Next topic,” I say, done with it. Thankfully she takes the hint.

“I just think it’s cute that you’re pretending being just friends is enough for you. Heroic, actually.” She grins. “When are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?”

“How do you say things like that so casually?” I ask, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “We’re just friends, Ly. Let it go. We’re not entertaining this anymore.” I stand up to walk away, because the more she pushes, the more likely I am to admit the thing I’ve been avoiding: that maybe I am starting to fall for Delaney. And I’m not ready to say that. Not to Lyla, not to myself, and definitely not to Delaney.

“What are we not entertaining?” Katie appears, flopping down beside Lyla. She yanks on my hand and pulls me back onto the couch and into the conversation I was desperately trying to escape.

“Nothing,” I say quickly. I widen my eyes at Lyla, internally shouting let it go. She doesn’t. Shocker. The loyalty is almost never in favor of me.

“Ah, the ‘just friends’ speech,” Katie says, smirking. “Got it. So…is she pretty? Smart? Funny?”

“Beautiful,” Lyla answers before I can even speak. Her mouth is wide open, eyes glued to the phone. My phone.

I grab it back from her like it’s a lifeline and look at the screen. It’s a photo of Delaney, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Black knit hat, her long brown waves spilling out beneath it. Those green eyes, looking like they were hand painted by Picasso himself. Her smile, framed by the kind of dimple that could ruin a man.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach like a damn parade when I read the text under it. The real question is, do you miss ME??? And shit, yeah, I damn sure do.

“The look on your face says it all,” Lyla teases, smiling softly.

She pats my shoulder and passes my niece, Sienna, to me, who yawns and immediately lays her head against my chest. Katie leans over too, her expression gentler than I expect. “Protect that heart of yours, little bro. It’s a special one. I’d hate to see it broken again.”

And in that moment, I remember exactly why taking things slow—being friends first—feels like the safer choice.

She ruffles my hair in that big-sister way that makes me both smile and flinch before she walks away. I sigh, but not loud enough for anyone to hear.

My chest tightens as I look down at the tiny human now curled up on my lap. I brush a spiral of blonde hair from her forehead, repeating the motion again and again because I know it’s her favorite. She takes a deep breath in and exhales, slow and peaceful, her eyelids fluttering shut.

She’s so damn innocent and the world is still big and kind in her eyes. Her tiny heart has never been broken and I wish I could keep it that way forever. I know I can’t, but I’d like to try.

At some point, I drift off too. There’s something about the weight of someone sleeping on you that’s the kind of peace you can’t fake. Not even the strongest dose of melatonin hits like this.

When I wake, my mom’s hand is on my cheek and her voice is soft. “Honey? Don’t you need to head out soon? I don’t want you to miss your flight.”

I sit up fast, realizing there’s baby drool on my sweatshirt. I swipe my hand over it, as if in any world that would work. It doesn’t. I carefully lay Sienna on the couch, trying not to fully wake her, and kiss her forehead.

“Uncle Bren loves you, baby. I’ll see you soon,” I whisper.

Her eyes flutter open just enough for her to mumble, “Wuv you,” and my heart squeezes tight.

She rolls over, shoving her thumb back in her mouth, and falls back asleep within seconds. I stare at her for a minute longer, fully aware that I’ll miss that little face in about fifteen minutes.

I say my goodbyes, which somehow never get easier, and Mom holds onto me the longest. A tear slips down her cheek, and she wipes it fast, pretending it didn’t happen. I hug her again, tighter this time, and promise to text her when I land. Then I head outside to find my ride waiting for me.

The Uber drops me off at the airport and its utter chaos. Families, luggage, and holiday travelers everywhere. I make my way to the security gate and breeze through. Thank you, pre-check. I stop and grab a water and a protein bar, because naps always make me hungry, and then I settle in at my gate. I dig inside my carry-on to find my AirPods but I give up the second my mind is distracted by a small cry.