Page 39 of Second Sin

Kane watches me, jaw tight. Doesn’t speak yet.

I don’t tell them about the kiss.

About how, for one fucking second, she kissed me back like she meant it. Like she needed it. Like the hunger wasn’t just mine.

I keep that part buried.

Because it doesn’t matter now.

Because I ruined it before it ever had a chance to mean anything.

Probably for the best.

She deserves better than a guy like me—someone who doesn’t just carry baggage, but drags the whole damn plane wreck behind him.

The silence stretches.

Then Blake claps his hands once, sharp. Stands.

“Alright. Enough self-pity. Let’s go.”

I frown. “Go where?”

“Ironclad.” He jerks his chin toward the door. “Team’s heading out. You’re coming.”

“I’m good.”

“You’re not.” Kane finally speaks, pushing off the locker like he’s done giving me space. “You look like shit. You’ve been playing worse. And if you sit here any longer, you’re gonna crawl inside your own head and stay there.”

I open my mouth to argue.

“Don’t.” Blake cuts me off. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to smile. But you’re showing up. You need to.”

I hesitate, jaw tight.

Kane shrugs. “Look. You can sit here marinating in guilt, or you can come be miserable around people who’ve already seen you fall on your ass.”

I don’t laugh. But I don’t say no either.

Because they’re not wrong.

Even if it won’t fix shit, sitting alone sure as hell won’t either.

I drag my hoodie on, grab my phone, and follow them out.

One foot in front of the other.

Even if my chest’s still burning like hell the whole way.

Ironclad’s packed when we get there—dim lighting, hardwood floors scuffed from years of foot traffic. We get a tablein the back, a little away from the noise. Some of the guys are already there—Tyler, Branson, a few others. They nod at me but don’t push.

I order a beer. Not whiskey. Not tonight.

Whiskey burns too close to the surface. Makes shit rise I’m not ready to feel. Beer’s safer—dull around the edges.

Kane gets a soda.Blake orders something dark and overpriced.

Nobody asks questions. But I can feel them watching when they think I’m not looking.

---