Page 4 of Second Sin

I sit. Open my MacBook. Start a list.

When I assess a new job, I look for the emotional climate first. Not the individuals. Not yet.

There’s no chaos here. Just quiet strain.

That’s where I start.

With the weight no one’s admitting to. The sharp edges they’ve learned to live around. The ways people cope that look like discipline but are really defense.

I’ve seen it before. With first responders. With soldiers. With every team that runs hard and burns out faster than they know how to recover.

So I’ll do what I always do.

Watch. Listen. Wait for the shift.

Not in them. In the room.

Because tension always moves before people do.

And when it does, I’ll be ready.

CHAPTER 2

SEBASTIAN

She smells like something soft.

Not perfume. Just clean skin. Maybe soap that doesn’t try too hard. It shouldn’t matter. Shouldn’t register.

But it does.

I walk away too fast.

Not because I’m rude, and not because I care what she thinks—but because I felt it. That second where our eyes caught and something punched low in my chest.

I saw the ring. Left hand. Simple band.

Off-limits.

But hell—one look at her and I felt it. Like a match dragging across my ribs. Fast. Hot. Immediate. And completely unwelcome.

You'd think my dick would have learned its lesson by now. But some instincts don’t give a damn about regret. Or guilt. Or the fact that she’s married and I’ve already burned down one life chasing the wrong kind of want.

I drag a hand through my hair, jaw still tight as I step into the elevator. The doors close, and I exhale slow, low.

Maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve let myself sink into something raw and physical instead of grinding it out on the ice or in my own damn head. Urges aren’t the problem—I’ve got those under control.

Most days.

Not today.

Because shit, when a woman like Olivia walks into a locker room buzzing with testosterone and adrenaline, what the hell do you expect? Thick chestnut hair that’d feel like silk between your fingers. Eyes like polished whiskey—steady, dark, impossible to ignore. A mouth made for sin.

She’s sexy in a way that doesn’t try. Calm in a way that makes you wonder what she sounds like when she comes—quiet at first, then unraveling all that control in a gasp she can’t hold back.

A low grumble vibrates in my throat.

I don’t want to think about it. But now I fucking can’t stop.

---