Page 172 of At First Catch

“I’m trying,” he murmurs against my hair.

Emotion surges painfully behind my ribs.

“I know.”

And I do know.

Maybe that’s why this hurts so much. Neither of us knows how to let the other love us without first trying to protect them. Nolan isn’t pulling away because he loves me less. He’s pulling inward because loving me this much scares him more than anything ever has.

I don’t remember falling asleep.

One minute I’m curled against Nolan on the couch while rain hits the apartment windows and his hand moves up and down my back.

The next, I’m waking in his bed to the sound of water tapping against glass.

The room is dark except for the faint gold glow of marina lights slipping through the curtains.

For a second, I don’t move.

I just listen.

The rain.

The soft creak of boats shifting below.

Nolan’s breathing beside me.

Except it isn’t steady. Not in the way it should be if he were sleeping.

I open my eyes and find him lying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers hidden somewhere in the dark.

“Nolan?” I whisper.

His head turns toward me. Like he’s been waiting for the sound of my voice.

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

The apology makes something inside me ache.

“You’re thinking too loud again.”

A faint smile ghosts across his mouth, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah.”

I shift closer, propping myself onto one elbow so I can see his face more clearly in the dim light.

“You’re still worried.”

His gaze drops to the place where my hand rests against his ribs.

“Yeah,” he admits.

I reach for his hand beneath the blankets and thread our fingers together. His grip tightens.

Not enough to hurt. Enough to tell me how badly he needs something steady.

“You want to tell me the real version?” I ask.