Page 143 of At First Catch

A list of problems that will double the second I get out of this bed.

Hadley shifts away.

My arm tightens around her.

“No.”

She laughs. “People expect us to function today.”

“They’re unreasonable.”

“Very.”

I bury my face briefly against her shoulder.

“I could cancel everything and hibernate with you instead.”

A gentle warmth spread across her face, relaxing her features.

“You’re very bad at casual now.”

I lift my head.

“Hads, I don’t think there’s a single casual feeling left in me where you’re concerned.”

Her breath catches.

It feels like the simplest truth I have.

She presses a kiss against my jaw before finally untangling herself from me.

And as I watch her cross the room in her wrinkled sweater, gathering her clothes and complaining about the lack of decent coffee in my kitchen, another truth settles beneath my ribs.

I’m no longer afraid of loving her.

I’m afraid of how losing her would destroy me. And for the first time in my life, running before that could happen doesn’t even cross my mind.

By Sunday evening, I’ve spent approximately forty-eight straight hours being loved by Hadley Wright.

And honestly?

I’m still not entirely sure how to function around it.

Not because it feels wrong.

Because it feels so unbelievably right that part of me keeps waiting for the universe to realize it made a mistake.

I stand alone near the western slips just after sunset, watching marina lights flicker across Back Bay while warm evening wind moves over the docks.

The reopening weekend was chaos in the best possible way.

Full slips.

Packed charter schedules.

Tourists everywhere.

Every restaurant within walking distance overflowing by noon.