Page 116 of At First Catch

I stare back, prepared to deny everything with the conviction of a woman who has successfully avoided emotional honesty for most of her adult life.

Then the denial catches somewhere behind my ribs.

“Oh my God,” I whisper.

Bailey points at me with one triumphant finger. “There it is.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I am not in love with Nolan.”

“You just looked at his sweatshirt like it rescued a kitten from a burning building.”

“That description makes no sense.”

“It does in your heart.”

I grab the empty coffee mugs from the table and carry them into the kitchen, mostly because pacing feels safer than sitting still while my best friend dismantles my emotional defenses with snack food.

“This is moving fast,” I say.

Bailey’s teasing fades. “Fast doesn’t mean wrong.”

The words follow me to the sink, where I set the mugs down and brace my hands against the counter.

“That’s not even the part that scares me.”

“What part does?”

I glance over my shoulder. Bailey is still curled into the corner of my couch, but the popcorn has been forgotten in her lap.

“How easy it is.”

The tension in her face eases, replaced by a gentler look.

“Nolan just…” I search for the words. “Fits. He doesn’t push his way into anything. He just shows up. Notices what needs doing. Makes room for me without making a big deal about it.”

“Sounds terrible.”

I give her a look.

“Absolutely horrifying,” she agrees.

A laugh slips out before I can stop it.

“I’m serious.”

“I know.” Her smile fades. “That’s why I’m not making fun of you.”

“You were literally making fun of me five seconds ago.”

“Different issue. The sweatshirt thing remains deeply embarrassing.”

I grab the dish towel and throw it at her.

She catches it against her chest, laughing. “I’m just saying, maybe easy doesn’t have to mean temporary.”