Page 43 of Worth the Shot

Emma’s quiet for a moment, then glances down at her phone. “Can I show you something without you getting mad?”

I raise a brow but nod. She scrolls through her camera roll and lands on a video, the date stamp from last week. It was an impromptu game night here at the house with Brennan, Miles, Wes, a few of the other guys from the team and their wives and girlfriends. She hands it to me, but she doesn’t press Play. She leaves it up to me, letting me decide.

I hesitate when I see the still frame, then I hit Play. The video is from across the room, shot from the kitchen but zoomed in on us. It’s me and Brennan on the couch. You can’t hear what we’re saying, but you don’t need to. He leans in and murmurs something, and my head falls back in a laugh that looks natural and free. Loud. Alive. I swat at him playfully, and he just shakes his head, grinning. The smile on my face is big and unguarded and his eyes are on me like I’m the only thing in the room worth looking at.

I hand the phone back, and neither of us say a word. We don’t have to. Whatever language hearts use when words fall short, we’ve already spoken it. She rests her head on my shoulder again, and before I know it, we both drift off like that, tangled up in the kind of silence that feels whole.

At some point, Shayne wakes us. He scoops Emma up and carries her upstairs, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, then her mouth. She smiles that soft, sleepy smile and whispers, “I love you.” My body shivers and goosebumps cover me head to toe. Watching them do life, love each other the way they do? I realize I’ve never had that before. Not like that. I always thought love was supposed to feel uncertain sometimes. Like something you worked for, proved yourself worthy of, held your breath hoping it wouldn’t disappear. But watching them now, I see the difference. The easy kind of love that doesn’t need to be earned or doubted because it just is.

Before I have time to feel sorry for myself, I grab an extra blanket and head for the guest room. My phone lights up on the nightstand: 12:07 AM. There’s a message from Brennan sent almost two hours ago.

Brennan

Merry Christmas Eve, Laney. Better get some sleep so Santa can come. See you tomorrow.

I smile so hard it hurts. Then I type back.

Me

Merry Christmas, Bren.

I set the phone down, pull the blanket tighter, and close my eyes. Visions of sugar plums, for sure, dancing in my head.

Chapter Seventeen

Brennan

Snow is still coming down in big, lazy flakes by the time Miles and I pull into Shayne and Emma’s driveway. Noon sharp were the instructions. I glance down at my watch that reads 12:07, which, for us, counts as early.

The house looks like a Christmas card. Garland is strung across the porch rail, a wreath bigger than Wes’s ego hangs on the door, and smoke curls from the chimney like something out of a movie. Inside, I can already hear laughter. The kind that wraps around you and makes you forget that your own apartment is quiet as hell. Miles kills the engine and lets out a low whistle.

“Think there’s any chance they’ll let us leave with leftovers?”

“If we play our cards right, we might get pie, too,” I say, grabbing the bottle of wine, dessert, and a few small gifts from the back seat.

I told Emma I’d bring something “nice” and I’m ninety-percent sure she thought that meant I’d just show up with beer again.

The second we step inside, warmth hits like a wave. The smell of pine, cinnamon, and something sweet comes from the kitchen, making everything feel somehow even warmer and cozier than it already is. Emma’s mom is laughing with Shayne, Luca’s shrieking at a pitch that will absolute destroy an eardrum, and Delaney⁠—

Delaney’s on the floor helping him unwrap a present, wearing dark green silk pajamas that look way too soft for my sanity. Her hair is down, loose curls spilling over her shoulders and down her back and when she looks up and spots me her smile reaches every single part of her face.

Yeah. That’s Christmas, right there.

Miles has already lifted Annie into a hug by the time I reach out to shake hands with a man named Rick, who Laney’s mentioned before. Apparently, Miles and I aren’t the only strays they’ve taken in this Christmas.

I hug Annie and Emma next, thanking them again for letting me crash their Christmas day with family. Emma just laughs, smacking me lightly on the side of the head.

“You are family,” she says. These Collins sisters really have it out for me.

I make my way through the kitchen and into the living room where Delaney, Luca, and Shayne are. Shayne gives me the classic handshake–half-hug combo, and before I can even straighten up, Luca’s tiny hands are tugging at my pant leg like I owe him money.

I scoop him up, press a kiss to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, little dude,” I say, setting him down and handing him the wrapped box I’ve been hiding behind my back. He attacks the paper immediately with his fists, Delaney helping him tear through it. When he finally gets it open, he lets out this high-pitched squeal that could shatter glass.

Out comes Monty the Moose, our team mascot, dressed in a Mountaineers home jersey with “LUCA” printed across the back and the number 1 underneath. He hugs it like he’s afraid someone’s going to take it away, face buried in the soft fur. Something in my chest tightens, making it feel like my heart’s being squeezed just as hard.

I glance up at Delaney as she watches Luca too, eyes soft, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. I wish I could pull her into my arms the same way. I’ve thought about it more times than I should.

The only thing stopping me is the suspicion that if I ever got her there, I wouldn’t let go. And I know the second we cross that line, there’s no pretending we’re still standing on the safe side of it.