Page 86 of Worth the Shot

“OKAY, that’s enough,” Emma says sharply, shoving him aside and scooping Luca up before he can say anything worse. Luca’s arms immediately stretch out for me despite the wreck I am.

“Asshole,” I mutter fondly at Shayne as I take Luca from her.

Emma studies me for half a second longer than necessary, her head tilting just slightly. “You okay?”

“Just fine,” I say, too quickly, already pressing Luca into my chest like he’s a life raft. He’s sleepy, heavy in that warm, trusting way toddlers get, and the thought of snuggling with him for his afternoon nap feels like the only thing keeping me alive.

“Okay,” she says slowly. Her brows knit, but she still doesn’t push, even though I know she’s been chomping at the bit since the trade.

Shayne disappears, no doubt to pack for his away game and get ready for their impromptu pre-travel date. I curl up on the couch with Luca and put on Finding Nemo. He doesn’t get much screen time, so his eyes lock onto it like it’s magic.

I throw a blanket over us, and he nuzzles into my chest the second his thumb finds his mouth. He mumbles his broken version of “I love you Aunt Laney” and my heart caves in on itself. Completely. “I love you too, my little booger,” I say softly, tapping his nose.

At some point, the movie ends and the credits blare loud enough to startle me awake. Luca is still out cold, toddler snores in full effect. I carefully lift him, carry him upstairs, and lay him in his crib. I kiss his cheeks twice like I might run out of chances if I don’t.

I check my phone and it reads 3:00 PM. There’s a text from Emma, sent an hour ago, that reads: You were both asleep when we left and we didn’t want to wake you. I’ll bring you home leftovers.

I turn on the sound machine, humidifier humming softly, and shut the door. The house feels cavernous without them. I head to the bathroom, set the monitor on the counter, and turn on the shower. When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I actually flinch. I look…wrecked. Dark circles, puffy eyes, and hair in full rebellion. I look like a sick, Victorian child who’s moments away from fainting dramatically onto a chaise lounge. Maybe Shayne’s right, a hot shower might resurrect me.

I crank the water until steam fills the room, then step in and let it swallow me whole. I should be replaying last night in my head. The way Brennan looked at me when I told him I loved him. The way something in him softened the second the words left my mouth, like he’d been waiting for them longer than I realized. And part of me is. But somewhere underneath all of it, quieter now but still there, is the thought I’ve been trying not to touch.

Matt.

Seeing him again. What it’s going to feel like to stand in front of the person who taught me how badly heartbreak can hurt. The worry that letting myself love Brennan will come with the same brand of heartbreak. But I refuse to let that take up space in my head right now, especially when Brennan has spent months making it such a good place to be. I rest my forehead against the tile and breathe, letting the hot water burn against my skin.

When I finally turn the water off, I hear Luca’s sound machine humming steadily through the door. I pull on a fresh pair of Emma’s sweats, which feels like an underrated luxury, and then I do something reckless and I brush my hair.

By the time I settle back onto the couch, the door opens and Emma and Shayne stumble in. Emma is giggling, cheeks flushed, clearly a little buzzed which probably means she had exactly one glass of wine.

“Hey Laney,” she says as she drifts by me. Hearing her say that name lands heavier than it should. She hasn’t used it since Dad was alive, but it almost makes me wish I didn’t go twelve years without it.

Shayne drops onto the couch beside me like this was planned all along. “Hey, Laners,” he says.

“Hi,” I answer, already bracing myself.

“I see you washed your hair. Proud of you.”

I stick my tongue out at him like a child. He laughs.

“Relax,” he says. “I come in peace.”

“For once,” I mutter.

“You should really stop bottling shit up, though,” he adds gently. “I know this whole trade thing probably feels like a lot for you.”

“Didn’t you just say you come in⁠—”

“I did. Anyway.” He sighs, rubbing his hands together. “I have a plane to catch so let’s make this quick. Life’s short. I learned that when I met you guys. Your dad. Losing him changed things. Makes you realize that people don’t stay forever. That sometimes you don’t get warnings.”

I nod, arms crossed tight across my chest.

“All I’m saying is, even if you won’t admit it, you're a different person lately. You know who you remind me of?”

“Who?”

“The Laney I met thirteen years ago.”

That hits hard.