Page 48 of Almost Ours
For a moment, Lily faltered. Something flickered in her expression–hurt, regret, something softer beneath the anger. But it was gone just as quickly. She squared her shoulders, her gaze snapping back to Nina, sharp as a blade. “This isn’t over,” she hissed.
“It is for today,” Shane said, voice like steel.
Lily stood there a beat longer, daring someone to push her further. Then, with a frustrated growl, she spun on her heel and stumbled off into the snow, muttering curses under her breath as she disappeared down the street.
A thick silence settled in her wake. Shane exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the cold air. Nina didn’t move. I could see the tension in her posture–the rigid line of her shoulders–yet she didn’t turn, didn’t say a word.
I stood frozen in the doorway, my heart still pounding. Nina and Shane stepped inside, Nina brushing snow from her coat.
Her face was tight, jaw set as if she were holding back a storm. Her usual effortless composure had cracked, replaced by something raw and brittle. She didn’t look at me as she toed off her boots with jerky movements.
Shane shut the door behind them, his expression unreadable. Still, the way his eyes flicked to Nina, watching her closely, said more than words ever could.
I moved to her side, hesitating for just a second before squeezing her arm gently. “Are you okay?”
She forced a smile that wavered, barely holding. “I’m fine,” she said too quickly, brushing past me. “I’ll… I'll fill you in later.”
Her voice was tight, clipped. Not the usualI’ve-got-thisNina–only someone unraveling by the second.
Shane’s gaze lingered on her retreating form, concern flickering across his face before he schooled his features again. He didn’t follow her, though. He just exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment settling in his shoulders.
Ryan’s groggy voice broke the silence. “Everything okay?”
I turned, finding him awake now, leaning against the back of the couch. His hair was still mussed from sleep, his brows were furrowed, his sharp gaze flicking between me, Shane, and the hallway where Nina had disappeared.
I shook my head slightly, my thoughts still spinning. “I’m not sure,” I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended.
Ryan didn’t push. His eyes lingered on me instead, steady and searching, like he could see the questions swirling behind mine.
The arenastill buzzed from the game, the last few stragglers filtering out into the cold afternoon. My head throbbed faintly from last night’s margaritas, and exhaustion that settled deep in my bones–though it had nothing to do with standing behind the bench. Coaching took a different kind of toll. Less physical, more mental. And after a game like that, with all the highs and lows, I felt wrung out all the same. Maybe the tequila hadn’t been my best decision. But none of that was what had my attention.
Harper stood in front of me, arms crossed, an all-too-knowing expression on her face.
“So,” she said, dragging out the word. “Did you happen to stop by my place before the game?”
I kept my expression neutral. “Why?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Because someone shovelled my driveway. And my car.”
“Huh. Lucky you.” I reached over to adjust my sleeve, keeping my face impassive.
Harper sighed, the kind of exasperated sound that made it clear she wasn’t buying my act for a second. “Ryan.”
I shrugged. “Could’ve been anyone.”
“Right. Because it’s totally normal for a random Good Samaritan to shovel onlymydriveway.” She tilted her head, a small smirk creeping onto her lips. “Just admit it. It was you.”
I let the silence stretch for a beat longer than necessary before exhaling. “Fine. It was me.”
Her smirk softened into something else–something unreadable. She shifted on her feet, like she was debating whether or not to call me out further. Instead, she just shook her head. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
“I could’ve done it myself.”
“I know that, too.”
She let out a short laugh, rolling her eyes. “So then why?”
