Page 138 of At First Catch

She laughs.

“I’m pretty sure you’re already past the limit.”

“Worth it.”

Color rises across her cheeks, and my breath hitches at the sight. She said the words with complete certainty and kissed me like there was never any question she felt them. Yet hearing me mention it still makes her blush.

I’m not sure I’ll ever understand how I got lucky enough to be loved by her.

Hadley’s fingers slide into the hair at the nape of my neck.

“You okay?” she asks.

Hadley never asks casually. She notices things other people miss. The shift in my breathing. The moments when I go too quiet. Every wall I try to rebuild after she’s already figured out how to get around it.

I search her face before answering.

“Better than okay.”

A gentler look crosses her face.

I brush my hand along her back beneath the sweater she never bothered taking off last night.

“You know what’s dangerous?” I ask.

“What?”

“I woke up this morning, and my first thought was that I get to keep you.”

The words leave before I can catch them.

For one brief second, she goes still. Then a helpless smile spreads across her face, and she settles closer against me.

“You’re getting alarmingly good at emotional vulnerability.”

“Don’t spread that around.”

“Why?”

“I’ve spent years cultivating a reputation.”

“As?”

“Moderately intimidating.”

I groan. “I blame you entirely.”

“Fair.”

The apartment stays quiet around us while rain drifts against the windows and dawn stretches over the bay.

I always assumed mornings after something significant would feel awkward.

Like saying the words would make us too aware of each other. Like we’d wake up and start wondering what came next.

Instead, lying here with her feels easy. Peaceful.

Maybe love with the right person isn’t supposed to feel like chaos.