Page 2 of Off-Limits

He raises an eyebrow. "Come on, Mia. You can do better than that." He leans forward slightly, giving me his full attention. It's unnerving how focused he is suddenly, like he sees right through me.

I sigh, relenting. "Okay, okay. Life has been... a bit of a shit show lately," I admit. "Work's been stressful, and... well, you know about the breakup." I wave my hand dismissively, not wanting to dive into the mess that is my love life with Jake Morrison of all people.

He nods slowly, his expression turning serious. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "Breakups suck."

The genuine sympathy in his voice catches me off guard, and for a moment, I'm tempted to unload everything onto him—the betrayal, the heartache, the humiliating way it all played out. But then I remember who I'm talking to, and I rein myself in.

"Thanks," I say instead, forcing a small smile. "It's just... a lot." I shift my position on the couch, suddenly feeling too exposed under his scrutiny. "What about you? How've you been?"

Jake leans back against the cushions again, running a hand through his hair. "Not much to report here," he says with a shrug. "Work's keeping me busy. You know how it is—protecting the world one corporate executive at a time."

I laugh softly, remembering Jake's security consulting firm. It always seemed like such a cliché—a former military guy running his own personal protection business—but I've seen firsthand how dedicated he is to his clients' safety.

"Sounds exciting," I tease, and he rolls his eyes in response.

"It has its moments," he concedes.

We fall into an easy silence after that, the kind that only comes from years of shared history. It's comforting, almost like old times, except for the undeniable tension crackling between us like a live wire.

Sitting there, watching Jake absently rub at a spot on his pajama pants, I can't help but acknowledge the truth: I'm attracted to him. I've always been attracted to him, in some distant, off-limits corner of my mind. But being here with him now, seeing the way he's grown into himself over the years... it's impossible not to feel the pull.

And yet, at the same time, I know this can never happen. Jake is Ryan's best friend—and therefore totally off-limits in my brother's book. Plus, we have completely different lives now; he's still firmly planted here in our small hometown while I've been building a career and a life miles away.

But most importantly, I'm not looking for anything serious right now—not after the wreckage of my last relationship. I need time to heal, to figure out who I am outside of someone else's expectations. Getting involved with Jake, no matter how tempting he might be, would only complicate things further.

As much as I try to distract myself from the tension building between us, it's impossible to ignore for long. Every time Jake shifts on the couch, I can't help but notice the exact way his body moves. His gaze keeps lingering on my lips, and when he catches me staring at him, he doesn't look away like he should. He holds eye contact, letting that simmering heat intensify.

Desperate to break the spell, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "So, did you really have to join the military just because Ryan did?"

Jake chuckles softly, but there's an undercurrent of something more serious in his voice when he responds. "It wasn't like that for me. I wanted to go—needed to, even. But yeah, having Ryan there made it... easier."

I nod, feeling a pang of guilt for implying otherwise. They've been through so much together; their bond is something I can never truly understand. "How's he doing overseas?" I ask, genuinely curious.

Jake's expression softens as he thinks about my brother. "He's good, toughing it out like always. Missing home, though." He pauses, then adds, "We talk every week."

I smile at the idea of them keeping each other company from across the globe. It must be nice to have someone who gets you that well, without needing to say much at all.

Then Jake tells me about Ryan's last video call, his face animated and full of warmth, and I can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Not just because they share such a strong connection, but also because it's clear how much he cares for my brother, and by extension, our family. It makes me wonder what it would be like to have him care about me that way too.

And then, without meaning to, I blurt out, "Why did you never try anything with me?" That was a mistake, I immediately tell myself, but it's too late to change it now.

The words hang heavy in the air between us, and Jake's eyes widen slightly in surprise before his gaze darkens. He leans back against the couch, considering me carefully. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice low.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my racing heart from betraying just how much this conversation is affecting me. "You know what I mean," I say, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "Why did you never... try anything when we were younger? Like, before Ryan made you promise not to."

That brought back a lot of memories, and he probably didn't want to remember them.

A slow smile spreads across Jake's face, and he runs a hand through his hair, looking almost sheepish. "Well, for starters, you were only eighteen the first time I really noticed you—really noticed you, you know?" He gestures between us, as if that explains everything.

I roll my eyes, feeling my cheeks flush with heat at the memory. It's true. I'd been painfully obvious about my crush on him back then. "That doesn't answer my question," I press, crossing my arms over my chest.

Jake sighs, leaning forward again.

"Because you were off-limits," he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. That's it? It was that simple all along? "You're Ryan's little sister. You always have been. And no matter how much I might've wanted to... it just didn't feel right."

My heart aches at the honesty in his words, at the longing hidden beneath them. I know what it's like to want somethingyou can't have, to be drawn to someone you shouldn't be. It's a painful, all-consuming kind of desire that never truly goes away.

But still... "That doesn't explain why you've never even tried since then," I say softly, tracing patterns on the couch cushion with my fingertips. "You could've come to visit me at college, or after, when I moved to the city. But you didn't."

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