Page 72 of On Edge

“You’re trembling.” His voice soft but edged with hate. He’s angry at me.

“I promise, I didn’t run away. Kathy said it would be fine.”

“She did, did she?”

“You can ask her.”

“Kathy doesn’t make decisions about where you go. I do.”

I blink at him, heart pounding.

His finger tugs at one of the leather straps, deliberately slow. “An interesting choice for someone who claims to need onlyessentials. Is that why you snuck away? Were you planning to wear this for someone?”

My eyes widen, and my mouth becomes an O. That’s not what I was expecting him to say. “No.” I grit out. “Of course not.”

“You know what I do to people who lie to me, Sage?” His voice drops to something razor-sharp.

Suddenly, there’s a pounding at the changing room door. “Sir, you’re not meant to be in there,” muffles from the other side. “I’m going to have to call security.”

Troy’s voice comes out, smooth as silk. “No need. She’smyfiancée.”

The other side of the door goes quiet. Then, “Hello, Miss, can you confirm that’s true?”

“It’s true,” I choke out.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but you’re going to have to unlock the door.

Troy rolls his eyes and then pulls me against him, his hand wrapping around my waist as he guides me to the door.

“Open it, and tell them,”—he murmurs against my ear—“you’re mine.”

I stare back like a mouse trapped in a dead end. Slowly, I crack open the door. A girl with straight, blonde hair, styled into a ponytail, and bright red nail polish gleaming, peers in.

“Miss?”

“He’s my fiancé. We’re getting married.” All I can feel is Troy behind me, solid, holding me tight, his touch searing through my clothes. The staff member frowns. “Okay, then I’m just out here if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

She nods and walks off a little way, but doesn’t leave the main dressing room area, keeping her eyes on me the entire time. I smile at her and relock the door and slowly turn around.

He towers over me, his green eyes glinting in the artificial light. “Right where we were? You were about to tell me who it was you were meeting here.”

I practically flatten myself against the door. “I wasn’t meeting anyone.”

“Is that right?”

“I’m not lying.”This time.

“Then I believe you.” But he leans close. “Though never forget, little finch, it’smyring you’re wearing.”

I bite my lip and give a tiny nod. “I won’t”

“Good girl.” Those two words run through me like electric fire. “Then that’s for me?”

I stare at him wide-eyed. “What?”

“You’re buying that for me?” I swear his eyes are sparkling now, even though his mouth is still set in a grimace. But I could be wrong. “If that’s what you’re trying on, go ahead. I’ll wait,” he adds. “I am your fiancé, after all.”