The room suddenly feels smaller.
Sin steps behind me. “You don’t panic. You don’t fight the wrong way. You strike soft targets, and then you move.”
He reaches for my wrist. My body reacts like it’s been waiting for his touch. Heat flares under my skin. My breath catches. His fingers close around my wrist, firm but not painful. My brain shouts This is training. My body says I donotcare.
“Break it,” he says.
I twist the way he showed me earlier, turning my wrist toward his thumb. I step in, pivot, and wrench free.
Sin’s brows lift a fraction. “Good.”
I spin to face him, breath coming fast.
He’s close.
Too close.
His chest rises and falls steadily, but his eyes are sharp, locked on mine. There’s something in them now that wasn’t there five minutes ago. Or maybe it’s always there and I’m just finally brave enough to see it.
Sin steps forward again. “Again.”
“Okay,” I manage.
He grabs my wrist again, this time higher, closer to my forearm.
My pulse jumps. I break it again, faster.
His hand catches my other wrist, and now he’s holding both, bringing me in just enough that I can feel the heat of him. “Thisis what it feels like,” he says quietly. “Panic makes you weak. You stay clear.”
I swallow, staring up at him.
His face is close enough that I can see the faint scar near his cheekbone, and the slight crease between his brows. His mouth is set in a hard line that I know he’s forcing.
“Sin,” I whisper.
His eyes drop to my mouth.
My whole body aches.
“Break it,” he says, but his voice doesn’t sound like a command anymore. It sounds like a plea.
I should. I should do the drill. Instead, I lift my chin and say the truth that’s been burning in me since breakfast. “You want me.”
Sin goes still. The air between us crackles. His jaw clenches. “Rowan.”
“I’m not asking you to break your rules,” I whisper. “I’m asking you to stop pretending you don’t feel this.”
His grip tightens slightly, then loosens, like he’s catching himself. Like he’s fighting.
I breathe in, and he smells like coffee and clean skin and restraint. “I’m disappointed,” I admit, voice shaking just a little. “Not because you said no. Because you said no like it hurt.”
Sin’s eyes flicker, something raw flashing through them before the control slams back into place. “This isn’t a game,” he says.
“I know,” I say. “That’s why it’s real.”
His throat moves. For a second, he looks like he might step back. Then he doesn’t. Instead, he lowers his voice. “You’re running on pure adrenaline.”
“Maybe,” I whisper. “But I’ve been wanting to kiss you since yesterday.”
