Page 175 of Sin

He considers that. “Dramatic but understandable.”

“Thank you.”

“With Sex Activity Pro, you get distance,” he says. “Money. Title. A clean professional structure.”

“Don’t make it sound so good.”

“It is good.”

I nod. Because it is. That’s the problem.

“And with SINsual?” I ask.

“With SINsual, you get your work. Your team. Credit for what you built. A launch that is going to change the company.” He pauses. “And yes, you get Sin nearby.”

I close my eyes. Nearby. What a dangerous word.

“He wouldn’t be my boss anymore.”

“No.”

“But he’d still be there.”

“Yes.”

“And everyone would know.”

“Everyone already knows.”

I open my eyes and glare at him.

He lifts one shoulder. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” he agrees with a smile.

The food arrives, and I stare at my salad like it might provide wisdom. It does not. Lettuce is famously unhelpful.

Tate picks up his fork. “Sin mentioned a letter.”

My hand stills and I keep my eyes on my plate. “He told you?”

“He told Wilder, who told me, because Wilder has never met a private thought he didn’t immediately mishandle.”

“I haven’t read it yet,” I say.

Tate is quiet for a moment. “Why not?”

Because I’m scared. Because once I open it, I can’t pretend I don’t know what’s inside. Because it might say goodbye. Because it might not. Because if Sin asks me to come back, every part of me might say yes before my brain has a chance to object. Because if he tells me to go, I might never recover from how much that will feel like love.

His voice softens. “What are you afraid it says?”

My throat tightens. “The truth.”

He nods slowly, like that makes perfect sense.

“I think that’s probably why you should read it.”