Page 135 of At First Catch

“Liar.”

Another small laugh.

“Fair.”

Silence settles between us, broken only by the steady rhythm of rain against the windows. I study him for another second. He’s looking past me now, toward the marina, but I know him well enough to recognize when he’s hiding inside his own head.

“Nolan.”

His eyes find mine again.

“I’ve never had this before.”

The words are so quiet I almost miss them.

“What?”

His gaze drops between us.

“This.”

The single word lands with surprising weight.

He swallows before continuing.

“Someone who wants to stay.”

My chest tightens so suddenly it almost hurts knowing his fear that everyone eventually leaves.

I reach up and cup his cheek.

His eyes close for the briefest second, leaning almost imperceptibly into my touch.

“You know the worst part?” he asks.

“What?”

“I don’t think I know how to keep any distance from you anymore.”

Emotion swells so quickly I have to blink against it. I don’t want distance either. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Not six months from now.

“I don’t,” I whisper. “I don’t want distance from you either.”

Something shifts behind his eyes. Not relief exactly. Permission. Like he’d been carrying those words around, waiting for someone to tell him it was safe to set them down.

He rests his forehead against mine.

“I get scared sometimes.”

My hands slide to the back of his neck.

“Of what?”

His voice roughens.

“Wanting this enough that losing it would wreck me.”

The confession steals every bit of air from my lungs. Because underneath everything else—his confidence, his steady hands, the way he always takes care of everyone around him—he’s still that little boy who learned too early that people don’t stay.