Page 218 of Only Be Mine

“That way,” he said mildly, “we can focus.”

He walked back toward me, slower now. Measured. Every step deliberate.

“You know what I need to understand?” he asked.

I didn’t answer.

He stopped an arm’s length away.

“I need to understand why you went digging.”

I forced my voice steady. “That’s not what I was doing.”

His head tilted. “Cate.”

My throat tightened. “I was looking for a pen.”

Trevor’s jaw flexed and he stepped closer.

Too close.

I could see the fracture now - not rage, not yet - but strain. The careful architecture of his calm beginning to crack under pressure.

“You went into my office,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

His hand lifted.

For a second, I thought he was going to touch my face.

Instead, his fingers wrapped around my wrist.

Not violently, but firmly.

Too firmly.

My breath caught.

“You went into my desk,” he continued.

His thumb pressed into the inside of my wrist, right over my pulse.

Testing, feeling how fast my heart was racing.

“You were never curious before,” he said softly. “Not like that.”

My body betrayed me and I flinched.

It was small.

Barely there.

But he felt it.

His grip tightened, just enough to hurt.