Page 35 of Second Sin

Her eyes don’t soften. They sharpen—like she’s cataloging just how wrong I got it. “Well. Now you do.”

My chest tightens. “I thought you were married. I saw the ring and I just… I reacted.”

Something flickers in her eyes. Not softness. Something colder.

“Reacted?” she echoes. “You mean you assumed and then verbally attacked me?”

I don’t answer. Because she’s not wrong.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” I murmur.

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

Tyler clears his throat, eyeing me with one brow raised, and a cocky grin tugging at his lips.

“I have a session,” she repeats, and turns her back to me.

Tyler mutters under his breath as he steps inside, “Smooth, Wilde.”

I glare at him, but I don't even care about the snide comment.

I want to say more. To explain. To have her look at me like she did before.

But she’s already gone.

And the door clicks shut in my face.

She didn’t slam it. Didn’t yell. Just shut me out with that cold, professional calm—the kind that cuts deeper than anger.

Whatever was starting between us?

I killed it.

CHAPTER 14

OLIVIA

Harper’s waiting for me outside my office when I finish up with my last session of the day. Tiny but fierce, she leans against the wall, and her dark brown eyes flick over me, narrowing with that unreadable doctor stare she’s perfected over years. But beneath the edge is something else—concern. A crease in her brow that wasn’t there last week. A quiet check-in without needing to say it outloud

“You look like hell,” she says casually, stepping away from the wall, arms uncrossing with purpose.

“Thanks,” I mutter, forcing a smile. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”

She just smiles. “You should come out tonight. A couple of us are grabbing drinks—peoplenotfrom work, promise. You could use some fresh faces.”

“I don’t know."

“You never know. You might even have fun,” she says, teasing. "Seriously, Liv. You’ve been carrying the weight of a whole damn team. It’s okay to put it down for one night. Meet a few people who don’t wear skates for a living."

I nod slowly. "Maybe."

“I’ll text you the name of the bar. Eight o'clock." She’s already walking away, but turns back to add, "And wear something that says you don’t own a bookshelf full of self-help books...even if we both know you do.”

I shake my head, her words landing somewhere between affection and annoyance. But before I can fire back, the air shifts.

Sebastianis walking down the hallway, eyes locked on me.

And just like that, the breath in my lungs feel heavy.

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