Page 100 of Second Sin

She looks up when I reach her. Calm on the outside. But her eyes—wide, glassy—tell the truth. There’s pride in them. Something softer, too. Something I don’t deserve.

I didn’t expect it to hit me like this.

Like being seen and not judged.

Like maybe I did something right for once.

"You should be at your table," she says, voice quiet, already flicking a glance past me. Probably watching to see who’s paying attention.

I should care. But I don’t.

Not right now.

I shrug, stepping in just close enough to feel the pull. “Needed a breath.”

There’s a pause. Her gaze stays on mine longer than it should.

“It was good,” she says. “Your speech. Vulnerable. Honest.”

I nod, jaw tight. “Yeah, well. Didn’t plan on bleeding out in front of everyone.”

Her mouth twitches like she’s trying not to smile. “Maybe that’s why it worked.”

She looks away first, gaze drifting toward the crowd—servers weaving between tables, glassware clinking, the low thrum of background music barely covering the buzz of polite conversation between speeches. Her fingers twitch at her side, then graze her hip like she doesn’t know where to put them.

Like she wants to reach for me, but won’t.

I take a half step closer, just enough to shield my words.

Close enough to feel the heat coming off her.

“Hate that I can’t kiss you right now,” I murmur, voice low and rough.

Her breath catches. Just barely. A soft sound that hits like a punch to the chest.

Then she sighs. Quiet. Controlled.

But her eyes flick back to mine, and that look?

It’s not calm. It’s chaos under control.

She looks like she wants to kiss me. Like she wants to throw every rule out the window and let it all burn. And I know I’m not making it easier for her. Standing this close. Looking at her like she’s the only thing keeping me steady.

She presses her lips together, fighting whatever storm’s working its way through her.

And I hate myself for being part of the reason it’s there.

“I’ve been…off,” I say finally, my voice quieter now. Rougher. “Pulled back. I know that.”

Her brows lift slightly, but she doesn’t speak. Just waits.

Which somehow makes it harder.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was—” I shake my head, cut myself off. “I'm not good at talking...I don't want to keep shit from you....”

“Whatever you tell me, Sebastian. I'll never judge you for being honest."

My gaze drops to the floor, then back up—anywhere but her face. “The car. The damage. The messages. It fucked with my head more than I want to admit.”

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