Page 94 of At First Catch

“Probably,” I mutter.

Holt looks at me sharply. “How long?”

His eyes find mine for less than a second. Just long enough to ask a question he never says out loud. I nod almost imperceptibly.

He answers Holt.

“We kissed yesterday,” Nolan says carefully.

Holt studies both of us for several long seconds.

Then he finally replies, “Yesterday.”

“Oh my God,” I whisper.

Holt points directly at me. “Don’t ‘oh my God’ me. You’re the anti-relationship one.”

Walter backs away, holding his biscuit.

Coward.

The marina suddenly feels too public. Too exposed. Tourists wander nearby completely oblivious while workers carry lumber farther down the western slips.

And in the middle of all of it, my twin brother is realizing I have feelings for Nolan Pierce.

As I look at Nolan, his face subtly changes, shifting in a way that’s hard to pinpoint. Like something clicks into place for him emotionally.

And suddenly I want privacy more desperately than oxygen.

“Holt,” I say more gently this time, “can we not do this in front of literally everyone?”

My brother exhales sharply, but finally nods once.

“Fine, but we are absolutely doing this later.”

Exactly the emotional nightmare I wanted for breakfast.

Beside me, Nolan suddenly laughs under his breath. I turn toward him in disbelief.

“You’re laughing?”

He looks down at me, warmth flickering low in his eyes despite the situation.

“You threatened to throw me into the bay when we first met,” he reminds me. “Guess it runs in the family.”

Before I can stop it, a smile begins to form on my lips.

And unfortunately? Holt notices that too.

Holt leaves the marina twenty minutes later looking only moderately less suspicious than when he arrived.

Which feels more threatening because if my brother had exploded emotionally, at least I would know where we stood.

Calm Holt is terrifying Holt, especially because he’s my twin. Meaning he knows exactly when I’m hiding something emotionally. And unfortunately for me, I’ve become spectacularly bad at hiding Nolan lately.

The second Holt’s truck slips down the road, I exhale dramatically, leaning both hands against the marina railing.

“Well,” I mutter, “that could’ve gone worse.”