Page 86 of At First Catch

I hope you’re pleased with yourself.

A chuckle bubbled out of me without any warning.

Me

Immensely.

Hadley

That’s obnoxious.

Me

You started it.

Hadley

I absolutely did not.

Me

Pretty sure you admitted wanting me to kiss you first.

My thumb floats over the screen as it goes black.

Hadley

Okay, but in my defense, you were looking at me very intensely.

I laugh.

God. I love this version of us already.

The easy honesty. The teasing layered over something deeper. No pretending anymore. Feels dangerously like the beginning of something permanent.

I stare out toward the marina again, thinking about permanence. About how foreign that word used to feel. Growing up, permanence belonged to other people. Families who stayed. Homes that lasted longer than a school year. People who unpacked boxes without wondering when they’d need them again.

I learned young not to build futures around things that could disappear. And now Hadley Wright has walked straight through every defense I’ve spent thirty-six years perfecting.

The terrifying part is I’m not sure I want those defenses back.

My phone lights again before I can spiral further.

Hadley

You got quiet.

Me

Thinking.

Hadley

Dangerous hobby.

Me

You make it worse.