Page 50 of Second Sin

“I didn’t think about it until Kane mentioned it?—”

I pull slightly. “YoutoldKane?”

His silence is a weight. A confirmation.

I feel the panic rise like bile in my throat. “Jesus, Sebastian. I’m in so much fucking trouble if this gets out.”

“He won’t say anything,” he says quickly, urgently. “I swear, he’s not like that. He’s not going to tell anyone. And even if he did, it's on me, I'm the one who kissed you.”

I take another step back, pressing my spine to the wall like I can hold myself together with pressure alone.

And still—I want him.

Still—he’s the only thing that feels steady in the middle of this spin.

Footsteps approach, quick and light, heels tapping against the scuffed floorboards.

“There you are,” Harper says, cheeks pink from tequila. Her smile’s easy, but her dark eyes skim between us, narrowing just enough to make my stomach dip.

I clear my throat. Force myself to stand straighter, even though the hallway’s still doing that slow, sideways lean. “Yeah. Just needed a sec.”

Harper nods, but her eyes linger on me for a beat too long.

Then she looks to Sebastian. “Wilde.”

He nods, jaw tight.

“I’m heading out,” she says, tugging her coat tighter around her. “You good?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow then?”

“Yep.”

She smiles, a little too knowingly. “Two ibuprofen, buttered toast, and a full bottle of water before you even think about falling asleep,” she says, backing away with a grin. “Doctor’s orders.”

I manage a laugh. Barely.

“Night, Liv. Night, Wilde.”

And just like that, she’s gone—leaving a quiet that’s somehow louder than the music still thudding faintly through the walls.

We’re alone again.

His eyes are on me.

I exhale slowly, willing the tequila out of my bloodstream and the heat out of my cheeks. The hallway’s still wobbly, but my pulse is steadier now. Calmer. Calmer-ish.

“I need to go home,” I murmur.

He doesn’t argue. Just nods once, then steps aside to let me pass.

The air between us stretches and hums as we walk back into the bar—quieter now, the late-night crowd thinning. Most of the team’s either gone or busy flirting with a group of college girls gathered around the corner booth. The music’s still pulsing, but the sharp edges have dulled.

I grab my jacket off the back of a chair, tug it on with shaking fingers. Sebastian stands close but doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t say anything.

Still, I feel him.

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