She reached out so casually that he didn’t expect it. One moment her hand hovered near him in conversation, the next it settled directly against his chest. It wasn’t firm, just a gentle palm pressing into him—but it was enough to send a shock through his entire body. He knew she could feel it, the uneven rhythm of his heart beneath her touch.
He tried to steady himself, to hide the tremor in his breathing, but her hand didn’t move. Instead, her fingers spread slightly, claiming more of him, as if mapping out the weakness he couldn’t disguise. Her eyes met his, and there was no mistaking the quiet satisfaction in her gaze. She wasn’t simply touching him—she was reading him, discovering the effect she had over him without a single word spoken.
The longer her hand lingered, the heavier the moment became. His chest rose against her palm with every breath, each one betraying him more. When she finally let her hand slide away, it was unhurried, leaving behind the ghost of warmth that burned deeper than the touch itself. He understood then that she hadn’t just touched his chest—she had reached into the part of him he couldn’t control.