Page 156 of At First Catch

The confession hangs heavily in the salt air between us. This isn’t really about real estate. It’s about roots. The thing I’ve spent most of my life avoiding.

Hadley turns toward me.

“And?”

I exhale.

“And then I panicked.”

A soft laugh slips from her.

Warm enough to loosen something tight in my chest.

God. I love making her laugh.

“I think most people just call that adulthood,” she says gently.

“Feels fake.”

“Probably because you spent years convincing yourself you were temporary.”

“I looked at kitchen layouts online,” I admit.

Hadley blinks once, then bursts into startled laughter.

The sound rolls warm across the marina docks while embarrassment floods through me.

“Oh my God.” She laughs harder. “Nolan Pierce.”

“I regret telling you.”

“You were looking at kitchens?”

I cover my face briefly with one hand.

“Maybe.”

The amusement in her expression fades, replaced by a more somber look.

“You pictured a future there,” she remarks gently.

Not teasing now.

Because yes, I did.

Coffee in the mornings. Rook somewhere near the back door. Hadley moving through rooms that belonged to us instead of spaces I rented temporarily.

The domesticity of the image felt so natural it scared the hell out of me.

“I think…” I pause, trying to find words big enough. “I think loving you made finding a home stop feeling impossible.”

The marina goes completely quiet around us, or maybe that’s just my pulse roaring too loudly in my ears.

Hadley stares at me wide-eyed.

“You can’t say things like that on docks at sunset,” she whispers.

A helpless laugh escapes me.