Page 43 of Second Sin

I see Tyler Slade first—goofing off, head tipped back, eyes crinkled. Then Kane. Blake.

And then—tucked in the corner, half in shadow—I see him.

Sebastian.

A half-finished beer in his hand, hoodie pushed up to his elbows. He leans back in his seat, taking up space like he owns the air around him, but there’s a tension in his shoulders, a tightness in his jaw that gives him away.

Those stormy grey eyes shift—like he senses me in the noise and chaos. Then they land on mine, slow and sure, pinning me in place.

And he doesn’t look away.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Just sits there, watching—jaw tight, shadowed with stubble.His mouth is set, hard and unsmiling.

But his eyes...

That look. Low, locked in, unapologetically focused—like I’m the only thing in the room he can see. It’s the same look he gave me right before he kissed me.

It hits me hard. Deep.Hot.

My pulse thuds behind my ribs, fast and reckless.

I can't be here.

Not with this wildfire crackling to life inside me.

I turn quickly, trying to disappear into the crowd, into the music, into anything that isn’t him.

But it’s too late.

He saw me. I saw him. And the part of me that’s still humming from the memory of that kiss can’t seem to shut the hell up.

Harper reappears like she’s been tracking me by radar. A shot glass clinks in front of me. “Tequila. No salt. No excuses.”

“I don’t know if I should stay,” I mutter, voice low enough that she has to lean in.

She eyes me. “What are you talking about? We just got here.”

I shift on my feet. “The team’s here. Slade. Kane. Blake. Probably more." I don't sayhisname. Afraid it might betray me. "It’s not a good look.”

Harper squints. “A good look for who?”

“For me,” I say. “I work with them. I’m supposed to be—neutral. Professional.”

She rolls her eyes, hard. “You’re not dancing on tables in a feather boa. You’re having a drink. Loosening your death grip on control. You’re allowed to exist outside of your job, Liv.”

“I don't know.”

Harper studies me for a second, then tilts her head. “You think they don’t already know you’re human? You’re literally the only one pretending you’re not.”

I stare down at the shot glass, my reflection fractured in the surface.

“You work your ass off,” she says, softer now. “You carry everyone else’s damage like it’s your job—because it is—but you don’t get to disappear just to make them more comfortable. You deserve to have a damn drink.”

Before I can reply, Tyler Slade materializes out of nowhere with a grin that could disarm a bomb.“Look who’s off the clock and actually drinking like the rest of us degenerates.”

I groan, already regretting every life choice that led me here. “Hi, Tyler.”

"Didn’t peg you for a tequila girl.”

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