Page 48 of Worth the Shot

“What is it, honey?” she asks, instantly concerned.

“I just want you to know I really like Rick,” I say. “I’m glad he’s your neighbor. It…it seems like you two have become good friends.”

She lifts her brows, smiling like she knows a whole unspoken chapter of my heart.

“I could say the same about you and Brennan.”

“We’re not talking about me right now,” I fire back.

She gives me a look and it’s gentle, knowing. “We never are, are we, sweetie?” she says softly, like she’s reminding me it’s okay to let someone in. To talk about things that scare me. She doesn’t push further, though. Instead she just holds me tighter. “Merry Christmas, my sweet girl. I love you very much.”

“I love you too, Mom,” I whisper, holding her for an extra beat, not realizing how bad I needed it.

When they finally leave, Shayne heads upstairs with Luca. Emma’s already tidying up the house even though it looks like it belongs in a catalog, because that’s Emma. And suddenly, I’m alone in the living room.

I take it all in. The warm white lights wrapped around the tree. The brown velvet bows and the red-and-gold ornaments. Luca’s half-opened gifts scattered at its base. The low crackle of the fireplace. Pine and woodsmoke and cinnamon in the air. I think about Luca’s morning giggles, his little hands ripping at wrapping paper. I think about the way Mom looked at Rick—bright, hopeful in a way I haven’t seen since Dad. And then…Brennan.

My breath stutters as the memory hits. His arms around me in the kitchen. The silent warmth of him pressing into me. The steady thump of his heart under my cheek, drowning out the music and chatter from the other room. The way his chin rested lightly on top of my head, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The slow, absentminded swipe of his thumb across my shoulder that nearly unraveled me.

It felt like safety. It felt like something I’m not supposed to want but absolutely do. I’m yanked out of my spiraling thoughts when Shayne barrels down the stairs.

“Alright, who’s up for leftovers and a movie?” he announces like a game-show host.

“Me!” Emma calls from the kitchen, already pulling out food in true Emma fashion.

“You guys enjoy…all of that,” I say, waving a hand in their direction. “But I’m still recovering from last night’s food coma, so I’m going upstairs to shower and sleep.” I hug them both goodnight and head upstairs. When I get to the guest room, I check my phone and see a message.

Brennan

Home safe. Thanks for making sure my Christmas was extra special. Maybe even my favorite one yet.

I smile at the screen like an absolute fool. I sift through the pile of gifts I’d dumped on the bed hours ago and pull out the small wrapped box from Brennan. No frills, just wrapping paper and what has to be half a roll of tape holding it together. I respect the dedication. I carefully work my way through the tape and lift the lid of the white box inside.

A bracelet and necklace sit on a cushioned pad. The first is a delicate gold band with a tiny stethoscope charm shaped into a bow, a small diamond catching the light where the chest piece would be. My breath catches. I love it instantly.

The second one, though—God.

A dainty gold chain with the number twenty-two lying flat across the center, diamonds filling it in just enough to glimmer. My heart swells. I don’t even try to stop it. Before I can think twice, I’m calling him. He answers on the second ring, his voice thick with sleep.

“Laney? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” I whisper, smiling into the darkness. “I just opened your gift.”

“Oh. Right.” He exhales. “Good. Okay. I was nervous about that. How do you like it?”

“Brennan, I love it. Seriously. I’m never taking them off.”

I want him to hear how much it means to me. Because he didn’t just grab something pretty. He got me. Really got me. He laughs softly.

“I figured you probably wouldn’t wear my number because of Shayne, so…a necklace felt subtle enough.”

“It’ll take an army to make me switch up that Bennet jersey,” I tease. “My loyalty runs deep.”

He laughs and butterflies erupt in my stomach. “Goodnight, Bren. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Laney girl. Goodnight.” I can hear his smile before the call ends.

I set the phone down, then immediately betray myself and pick it back up, opening my camera roll. I scroll slowly, stopping at every picture we’ve taken. But the one I linger on is one of the first. It’s me making a goofy face, Brennan holding a beer. He isn’t looking at the camera, though.