Page 83 of At First Catch

It was.

Silence stretches afterward long enough that I wonder if I’ve said too much.

Hadley

Nolan.

I stare at her name for a long moment. My thumb looms over the screen. One more message. One I probably shouldn’t send.

Me

I don’t really know how to do this.

The dots appear almost.

Hadley

Do what?

I let out a slow breath.

Me

I don’t usually let people get this close.

This time, the silence lasts longer. Long enough that I wonder if I’ve finally said too much.

Hadley

Good.

My eyes crinkle at the corners, and a joyous laugh bubbled up from my throat, escaping before I could contain it.

Hadley

Because I’m getting pretty tired of pretending I want you to keep your distance, too.

I close my eyes briefly. I’m already in deeper than I meant to be, and judging by the way my chest physically aches whenever she sounds uncertain? I’m pretty sure there’s no climbing back out now.

By seven thirty that night, I’ve officially reached the point where kissing Hadley Wright has rendered me completely useless as a functioning adult.

I tried working. Genuinely. I sat in the marina office for almost an hour after our texts ended, attempting to review invoices while evening settled across Back Bay.

Nothing productive happened.

Every line item blurred together because my brain kept replaying the exact moment Hadley whispered, “I’m tired of almost.”

Christ.

I scrub one hand down my face and stare out the office windows toward the docks glowing beneath the sunset’s light.

The marina looks beautiful at night now.

Still rough around the edges. Still unfinished.

But alive.

String lights now stretch across sections of the western dock while fresh paint brightens railings that looked hopeless two weeks ago. Music drifts faintly from one of the charter boats farther out on the slips while the warm wind moves steadily across the water, carrying salt and summer and possibility.