“You could have been caught. You thinkthatwas Spence overreacting? That was nothing. That was barely a reaction.”
“He was mean to Savvy.”
“Yeah, well, she’s his girl. He expected it of you, he didn’t think she would go along with it.” I saw a thousand arguments crowd her expression and decided to cut her off. “It was a good idea, but not today. Poor timing.”
Hadley considered it. “Fine,” she conceded. “But if he does it again, I will plant a dead fish in his closet.”
I stared at her. “Jesus, Hadley, that’s just deranged.”
She gave me a wicked grin. “I’ll show you deranged.”
I laughed, low and helpless, and finally loosened my grip so she could move. She leaned back slightly. She was still smiling — bright, unapologetic, a little wild — and it hit me, suddenly and sharply, how easy it felt to be like this with her.
“Threat noted,” I said. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
She reached up and smoothed a hand over my chest, fingers light, exploratory, like she was still figuring out what was allowed. “You already are on my bad side,” she said sweetly. “You’re just lucky I like you.”
That had an effect on me. Not the physical kind of effect — the other kind. The kind that settled in my chest and stayed there, like warmth spreading over your body after a cold day outside.
“Come on,” I said quietly. “Bed. Before you start plotting marine-based revenge.”
She didn’t argue. She let me tug her with me, let me pull her down beside me, both of us still fully dressed, limbs tangling without urgency. She tucked herself against my side like it was the most natural thing in the world, her head resting on my shoulder, her leg draped over mine.
This —this— felt new. Not desperate, and not explosive.
Just . . . good.
“I don’t hate this,” she murmured after a moment.
I smiled into her hair. “High praise.”
She tipped her head back to look at me, her expression softer now, curiosity replacing mischief. “I don’t know where this is going,” she said honestly.
“Me neither.”
She studied my face, like she was checking for bravado, then nodded. “Okay.” She continued to watch me. “I’m not good about talking about feelings,” she said quietly. “I’m going to guess you’re worse than I am,” she added teasingly. Her fingers danced over my chest, her gaze dropping to watch. “I’m just going to say this once, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I really like you.” Her fingers stopped tapping against my shirt. “I really—” she hesitated — “frustratingly want this to work. You are not who I thought would give me butterflies, but you do and... I don’t hate it.”
I’d been waiting for her to say something like this without knowing I was waiting. “Wow.”
“Shut up.” She raised herself up on her elbow, staring down at me. “You make me smile when I think about you,” she added, voice dropping. “You make mewantto be close to you. You make me... sociable.”
“Sociable?”
“I have friends!” she wailed, flopping onto her back. “I was really annoyed with myself for pissing them off earlier, and it pisses me off that I cared.”
“Does it?” I asked, my lips twitching. “Are you really trying to say you don’t care about them?”
“No!” She curled into my side. “What have you done to me?” Her fingers dug into my side.
I rolled her onto her back and leaned over her this time. “Did I melt the heart of the icy Hadley Peterson?”
She looked up at me, hair spread over the pillow, eyes half lidded and unguarded in a way that made my chest tighten. “I think you did,” she whispered.
“I told you I had skills,” I teased softly. “This is new to me too. And I could say we should take it one day at a time, but...” I hesitated, then shook my head. “You’ve already met my family. I don’t want to do day-to-day with you. I want more. So much more.”