Page 64 of Second Sin

Her laugh is short. Not amused.

“Sebastian,” she says, finally turning toward me. “It’s not just league rules. It’s my license. My career.” She closes her eyes for a second. Presses her fingertips to her temples.

And it guts me.

She shifts away, just a little. Enough to feel like loss.

And it hits me.

I finally have her. Really have her.

And there’s already a part of her writing it off as a mistake.

My fingers curl into the sheet beneath me, tight enough my knuckles ache. I want to say something. Do something. But all I can do is sit here, naked and wrecked and watching the one good thing I’ve let myself have in years slip back into doubt.

I fucking hate it.

Hate that I’m the reason her shoulders are tense now. Hate that she’s over there trying to think her way out of this, because I put her in a position where she has to.

Her words replay in my head—It’s my license. My career.

All I hear isyou’re not worth the fallout.

My jaw clenches. I can feel it—everything in me winding tight.

“I didn’t just fuck you, Olivia,” I say, voice low, almost a growl.

She looks over her shoulder, startled. But I don’t stop.

“You think this is some one-night lapse in judgment?” I shake my head. “You think I’m gonna forget the sound you made when I touched you, or how you looked at me like you actuallysawme?”

Her eyes flash. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“No? Then whatareyou saying?”

She turns fully now, the sheet pulled tight across her chest. “I’m saying this matters. Which is the problem.”

My chest is pounding. I drag a hand down my face, forcing in a breath that doesn’t help.

“I know what I am,” I say finally, quieter now. “I know I’m the last person you should’ve let in. You’ve got rules. Standards. Shit to lose. I don’t.”

Her head snaps up. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t dowhat?”

“Make it sound like you don’t matter.”

I meet her eyes, jaw tight. “Maybe I shouldn't.”

She flinches. Not much. But enough.

And fuck, I hate myself for saying it. For needing to say it.

Because I know she cares. I saw it in her eyes last night. Felt it in every damn breath, every touch. She let me in. Just for a moment.

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor.

“I don’t want to be a fucking regret,” I say, voice flat.

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