Page 167 of Only Be Mine

The door opened like it had every right to.

Trevor stepped inside with the same controlled ease he brought to everything, his jacket draped over one arm, keys already disappearing into his pocket, his expression composed in that way that always made me feel like I was the one being unreasonable for having feelings.

His gaze landed on Seth first.

A flicker, barely there, then gone.

“Hey,” Trevor said, voice warm enough to pass for normal. “Didn’t expect company.”

Seth didn’t move from the edge of the couch. His posture was calm, but his eyes were sharp, the way they got when he was keeping himself on a leash.

“Cate called me,” he said evenly.

Trevor’s attention slid to me.

Only then did he seem to notice the phone in my hand. The way my shoulders were tight. The way my breathing wasn’t.

He smiled anyway, small and polished.

“You okay?” he asked, like it was an easy question with an easy answer.

On the phone, Detective Marshal was still waiting.

My silence stretched just long enough to become its own kind of answer.

Trevor took another step into the room, slower now. Not cautious.

Calculated.

“Who’s on the phone?” he asked.

I swallowed, throat tight. “Detective Marshal,” I said.

Trevor’s face didn’t change, at least not in the ways most people’s faces would. No shock. No panic. No visible crack.

But something in his eyes hardened, just for a beat, like a door quietly locking.

“On speaker?” he asked.

“No,” I lied automatically.

Seth’s gaze snapped to me because the lie was obvious. Because the phone’s tiny glow was angled outward. Because Marshal’s voice had just been too clearly heard.

“Ms. Larkin?” Marshal said, the words filtered but unmistakable. “Are you still there?”

Trevor’s jaw flexed once.

Ms. Larkin.

He looked at me like the name had been a slap across the face.

“Cate,” he said softly, and the softness didn’t make it gentler. It made it sharper. “What are you doing?”

I stared at him.

The man who had planned our honeymoon down to the minute. The man who had corrected the detective with my married name. The man who’d said together like it was a promise.

And all I could think was, I didn’t tell him I was calling.