Page 26 of At First Catch

Nolan

Depends.

My pulse kicks.

Me

Depends on what?

Three dots.

Disappear.

Reappear.

Nolan

Whether you want the professional answer or the honest one.

Long enough for me to imagine him standing somewhere in the marina office, phone in hand, dark brows drawn together as he decides how much truth to put into a text.

Nolan

Depends how smart you are.

A snort escapes me in the quiet, empty office.

Me

Historically? Mixed results.

Nolan

I remember.

My breath catches.

Again.

Those two words again.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe Nolan, with all his control and restraint and careful silence, has no idea that two simple words can make my skin feel too tight.

I stare at the screen until it dims, then I type carefully.

Me

You keep saying that.

The dots appear almost.

Then disappear.

For a long moment, nothing happens.

I tell myself to set the phone down. To be a mature adult. To remember that I am standing in a government-adjacent office with a nosy receptionist who files away gossip as well as she does the mayor’s paperwork.