Page 56 of Worth the Shot

Me

I did too. Glad we are now.

I leave it simple, but every cell in my body wants to write:

Come over or let me come to you.

Instead I just watch the phone screen glow, hoping she doesn’t disappear again. Miles elbows me, a soft shove.

“There it is,” he murmurs. “There’s your reason for living.”

“Shut up,” I say, but I don’t stop smiling.

Delaney

Have anything fun planned for the weekend?

I hesitate, just for a moment, because I really want to get this right and right now? Playful feels right.

Me

That sounds suspiciously like you asking me to hang out.

Delaney

Figured you must be missing me by now. Feeling generous so I’ll put you out of your misery. Movie night?

If that isn’t the understatement of the century.

Me

Sounds perfect, I’ll supply the blanket.

Saturday comes around faster than I thought it would, and thank God for that. As soon as practice ends I dart out of the arena like something’s on fire, not giving a single fuck about what the guys have to say about it.

By the time I get in my truck, the sun’s starting to dip behind the trees, throwing this soft orange glow across the dashboard. Usually I like to stop and take these things in, but not today. Today I’ve got one thing on my mind, and that’s Delaney. Shocker, right? Except tonight, in a couple of hours, she’ll be under her favorite blanket on the other end of my couch watching a movie I won’t pay a damn second of attention to because she’ll be within arm’s reach.

I turn the ignition and rub a hand over my jaw. My stomach does this weird flip, a mix of nerves and something bigger. Something I need to scream out loud but I don’t know how to without scaring her away.

The drive home feels faster than usual. I don’t know if it’s adrenaline or the thought of her, but my foot’s heavier on the gas than normal. When I finally pull into my spot, I just sit there for a beat, hands on the wheel, staring at my building like it’s a test I’m prepping for.

Don’t be weird.

Don’t be intense.

Don’t propose after a forehead kiss.

Basic self-reminders.

Inside, my apartment looks clean enough that I won’t die of embarrassment. I toss my duffel in the corner and head to the bathroom. I run a hand through my hair, fixing it so it falls the way she teased me about liking and I grab the cologne she said smelled “dangerous but comforting,” which has now become my religion.

I pick out a shirt, take one last look in the mirror, and pray that tonight ends with the word “friends” never being enough for either of us again.

The nerves settling lower in my stomach are impossible to ignore anymore because this isn’t just movie night. This feels like something more. Progression that’s been building for months, a pull I’m not fighting anymore. I start straightening the couch and adjusting pillows like an idiot. Then I turn on the small lamp in the corner so it’s not too bright, and check the blanket for dog hair even though I don’t own a dog because obviously this woman has led me to lose my mind.

Just as I run out of things to straighten up or fluff, my phone buzzes on the counter.

Delaney