Page 44 of Worth the Shot

So instead I sit on the floor next to her, legs bent, arms draped loosely over my knees, close enough to nudge her shoulder with mine.

“Merry Christmas, Laney.” I smile.

“Same to you, Halesy.” She smirks, and I try not to stare at her mouth. Obviously, I fail miserably.

“You having a good day so far?”

“Yeah. I mean, who wouldn’t be? Even I’m nice on Christmas.” She smiles into her coffee mug.

I pull it from her hand on instinct so I can see the whole thing.

“What are you doing?” she protests.

“Wanted to see that cute little dimple.” I nudge her shoulder with mine again.

“Well, I’m not smiling anymore, considering you just took away my happiness.”

“I have a feeling there may be other things around here making you happier than you’d like to admit, Laney girl.”

“What do you know about my happiness, Brennan?”

The grin on my face only grows, because damn, the way she says my name does something unfair to my heart every single time. I hand her back the mug, and she snatches it from me like a feral raccoon. I laugh.

“A lot more than you’d think.”

She doesn’t argue with me. She doesn’t cut through the pull between us with one of her sarcastic little remarks. Instead, she lets out a resigned sigh and rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips.

“If you say so.”

The day carries on exactly how I pictured it, probably because it feels just like back home. We graze on appetizers, hum along to the Christmas music playing in the background, sip on whatever adult beverage happens to get passed around, trade stories of past holidays, and eventually settle around the table for dinner.

At some point after dessert, I slip away for a second. I FaceTime my family to say Merry Christmas again, even though I talked to them this morning. I guess I just…miss them, that’s all.

When I walk back into the kitchen, my heart feels a little heavier than before. I insist on doing the dishes, practically forcing Annie to go relax with everyone else before the night slips away. Miles jumps in beside me—me washing, him drying—and we fall into an easy rhythm.

I convince him I can handle the rest, needing a second alone in the quiet. Outside, the snow is falling harder now, thick flakes swirling beyond the window. Inside, laughter rises from the living room and it all feels warm, bright, and familiar. The kind of sound that fills a space inside you that you didn’t even realize was empty. Guess I am pretty lucky to have a family here too, now.

By the time I’m finishing the last dish, the room has dimmed and only the warm, old-school Christmas lights frame the window over the sink, casting soft gold across the counters. A sliver of light from the living room spills in, mixing with it. I wipe my hands on a towel and lean back against the sink, arms folded. That’s when Delaney walks in.

She pauses and her eyes linger, searching mine.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, glancing around like she’s just realizing I’m alone—and probably noticing I look a little less put together than usual.

“Yeah. Just missing my family a little,” I admit. “Hard being away for Christmas and all that. I’ll be alright.”

“I can’t imagine,” she says softly. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with us. I know it’s not the same as being with your people.”

I shake my head immediately, uncrossing my arms and stepping closer. “No—hey.” I start to reach for her hand, then stop myself, dragging it through my hair instead. “That’s not what I meant.”

She looks at me, curious, waiting.

“You guys are my people, too,” I say, a little more serious this time. “It’s just…different. I wish I could have both. You guys, them…” I trail off, catching myself, then I glance back at her. “I’m really glad I’m here, though. With you.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” she says, quieter this time. I don’t push it. I know letting her guard down, even a little, doesn’t come easy.

“I have something for you,” she blurts it out like holding it in physically hurts.

I laugh softly. “I have something for you too.”