Page 30

She swallows. Hard. Her eyes meet mine and hold.

“I don’t know what to do,” she admits quietly.

“You don’t have to know.” I step closer, letting my body heat ghost along hers. “You just have to trust me.”

Her breath catches. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

Her eyes flick to my mouth, so quick she thinks I won’t catch it.

I catch everything.

“Because you scare me,” she whispers.

My pulse spikes. “How?”

“Because you’re… intense. And you look at me like?—”

“Finish it.” My voice darkens.

She shakes her head. I hold her gaze, refusing to let her hide. “Like what, sunshine?”

She hesitates. Then finally, in a small voice: “Like you want me.”

The air thickens. Dangerous. Electric. Over the line.

I lean in until my lips hover at her ear.

“I do,” I murmur.

Her whole body trembles.

She grips the bulletin board behind her like she needs something to hold onto.

“Saxon…” she says, breathless.

“Don’t worry,” I murmur. “I’ll behave.”

“You don’t look like you’re about to behave.”

“No,” I agree. “I don’t.”

We stay there in the empty hallway, breathing the same air, heat building between us like a fuse burning down.

Then her phone vibrates again.

She jumps. “Probably another comment.”

“Probably,” I say, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “Let the town talk.”

She swallows. “And what do you think they’ll say?”

I smirk. “That you caught the captain.”

She laughs—shaky, disbelieving, too soft. “You are impossible.”

“Maybe.”