Page 120 of At First Catch

His thumb brushes beneath the hem of his sweatshirt where it falls over my hip. “You make it hard to remember I’m trying to behave.”

“Trying?”

“Hadley.” My name roughens in his voice. “I am trying very hard.”

The admission sends warmth low through my stomach.

I know what he means. The same pull lives inside me, growing stronger every time he looks at me like this—open, wanting, and almost wary of how much he wants.

I have spent so long afraid that needing someone would make me a burden. With Nolan, closeness feels less like surrender and more like being allowed to rest.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

“That this should probably scare me more.”

His brow furrows, and his lips press into a thin line. “Being here with me?”

“No.” I slide my hands to the back of his neck. “How natural it feels.”

He goes still.

The words seem to reach somewhere deeper than I intended. Nolan lets out a quiet breath and looks down for a second, as if he needs the distance to gather himself.

“You cannot say things like that when I’m already struggling to think.”

A smile pulls at my mouth. “You asked.”

“I’m learning that asking you questions is dangerous.”

“You bought a collapsing marina. Clearly, you enjoy risk.”

His laugh brushes across my skin before he kisses me again.

This kiss deepens. One of his hands moves up my back beneath the sweatshirt, the careful drag of his palm sending a shiver through me.

“Cold?” he asks against my mouth.

“No.”

His gaze darkens at the breathless answer.

“Good.”

I kiss him before he can say anything else.

A low sound catches in his throat, and the restraint between us frays. Nolan draws me so close that my breath catches, the air thick with a burning tension that leaves no space for anything but his touch. My fingers slide into his hair. His mouth moves over mine with a patience that feels more consuming than urgency ever could.

I understand then how easy it would be to lose myself in him.

The frightening part is that I do not feel lost.

I feel found.

Nolan pulls back only far enough to rest his forehead against mine. Both of us breathe unevenly, neither willing to move away.

“I can’t decide whether I want to take this,” he says, “or skip ahead to the part where this is the rest of my life.”

The breath leaves me.