Page 37 of Second Sin

My knees weaken instantly. I grab his shirt to stay upright, to keep from falling.

God help me, I kiss him like I’ve needed it for years. Like he’s oxygen and I’ve been drowning.It's raw. Too much. Exactly what I shouldn't want—and everything I can't stop from taking.

The world falls away. It's just him. Me. And desperation.

His lips move like he’s trying to tell me something without words. Like if he kisses me deep enough, hard enough, maybe he won’t have to say what’s breaking him apart.

I tear away from him, gasping, pushing at his chest until he releases me. I take a few stumbling steps backwards.

"You shouldn't have done that."My hands won’t stop shaking. I curl them into fists, trying to force stillness into my bones.

And I shouldn't have wanted it.I don’t just hate him for what he did. I hate myself—for needing it. For melting the second his hands were on me. For wanting someone who can break me with a look.

Tears sting, but I won’t let them fall.

How the hell am I supposed to walk into another session with him now? Pretend this didn’t happen? Pretend I haven’t already compromised the most sacred boundary in my field?

"Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?"

His eye twitches as he rubs the back of his neck like he wants to rip the tension out by force. "I didn’t come here planning that...shit, I didn’t even know what I was going to say. I just needed to tell you I was wrong. About what I said. About your husband?—"

"Don't. You have no right to talk about him." A cold sense of betrayal—mine—slithers down my throat and settles in my gut, cooling the heat that was there moments before. And I want Sebastian to hurt as much as I am. So I don't edit my words.“Ethan was a better man than you’ll ever be.”

He flinches like I hit him.

“You have no idea how right you are,” he says quietly.

“Get out,” I say, voice splintering on the edges.

He hesitates, jaw clenched, like there’s more he wants to say—something that might fix it or break it worse. But he doesn’t.He just nods once, a bitter little twist at his mouth, and walks out.

The door clicks behind him. I collapse into my chair. The tears come hard and fast.I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to force the tears back in. Trying to remember who the hell I am. But everything feels blurred.

The worst part?

If he walked back in…I’m pretty sure my body would betray me all over again.

CHAPTER 15

SEBASTIAN

Mid-game, and I can’t fucking focus.

The puck slips off my stick like it’s greased, and I miss a block I could’ve nailed in my sleep. Kane shoots me a look from across the ice, one that saysget your shit together,but it’s like my body and brain are skating in different directions.

Coach benches me halfway through the second period.

He doesn’t say a word—just jerks his thumb toward the bench and doesn’t look back. But the silence is louder than any curse he could’ve thrown.

I sit, helmet off, elbows on knees, trying not to crack my stick in half.

I can’t stop seeing Olivia’s face—flashing through my head like a replay I didn’t ask for.

I haven’t seen her since that day in her office. Word is she’s been out sick. But I know better. She’s avoiding me.

By the time the final buzzer sounds, I’m still sitting there—hot under the collar but cold in my chest, marinating in useless guilt.

Back in the locker room, the silence wraps around me like a noose.

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