Page 10 of Off-Limits

'Frustration' must be his middle name or something like that.

Having said that, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing alone by the pool, my heart aching and my body still humming with desire. I watch him go, overwhelmed with frustration and anger, and something else, something I don't want to acknowledge.

"Asshole," I mutter under my breath, kicking at the ground with my bare foot. "What right does he have to decide what's best for me?"

But even as I say it, I know that Jake is only doing this because he thinks it's the right thing to do, for both of our sakes. And as much as it hurts, I can't help but appreciate his restraint, even if I hate him a little bit for it right now.

???

The next day, sitting at the kitchen table, picking at my cereal, I can't help but steal glances at Jake. He's leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee like nothing happened yesterday. Like he didn't leave me breathless and confused by that intense make-out session by the pool and then just walk away without a word.

I wish I could say the same. I wish I could act normal around him, but every time my eyes flick to him, all I can think about is his hands on my body, his mouth on mine, the way he made me feel alive in a way that no one else ever has.

But now… now it's like he's a stranger again. All those moments we had, none of them seem to matter anymore. Because here we are, back to square one: Jake Morrison, my brother's best friend, and me, the girl I know he can't stop thinking about.

I mean, can this get any worse? I keep thinking it can't, but at the same time, I also feel like it will and I don't know how I can stop it.

I sigh internally, pushing my half-eaten cereal away. I'm not hungry anymore, not for food anyway. My stomach is a mess of nerves and butterflies, and it feels like there's a constant lump in my throat that won't go away.

Jake seems to be doing his best to ignore me, too. He's been quiet since he came downstairs, his focus entirely on his phone. I want to say something—anything—to break this awkward silence, but every time I open my mouth to speak, the words die on my tongue. What is there even left to say at this point? Sorry for kissing you like that? Sorry for wanting more? Sorry for leaving and being an asshole?

I don't think either of those things would go over very well.

Instead, I'm left sitting here, stuck in my head and drowning in memories of our past. Like the time we were all camping together—Ryan, Jake, and me—and Jake taught me how to fish. We'd spent hours down by the lake, with Ryan sleeping off a hangover from the night before, while Jake patiently showed me how to cast my line and bait my hook. I think it was in that moment I fell in love with him, if I already wasn't.

And what about that time when I was eight and fell out of the treehouse Ryan had built for us? Jake just happened to be over for dinner that night, and he rushed outside as soon as he heard me scream. He'd scooped me up in his arms, cradling meagainst his chest like a small child, even though I must have weighed more than half of what he did back then.

And let's not forget the countless sleepovers we had when we were younger—Ryan and Jake crashing on the pull-out couch while I claimed my bedroom upstairs. They'd stay up all night talking about God knows what, leaving me to wonder if they'd ever grow tired of being best friends. Those were the days.

But even as these memories flash through my mind, there's one that stands out above them all: the day I turned eighteen and Ryan threw me a surprise party. Jake had been there, too, of course. He was always there for every important moment in our lives, but this time it felt different. This time, I noticed him noticing me, and that was when everything changed between us.

We'd ended up dancing together in the kitchen while the rest of our friends danced around us, oblivious to the tension between us. It had been a slow song, something soft and sweet with lyrics that made my heart flutter in my chest. Jake had held me close, his hands resting on my hips as we swayed together in time to the music. I can't help but wonder if, even back then, he already thought the way he does now about me.

That time, with the night growing darker, I could swear there was a different look in his eyes whenever he looked at me, and it was something heated and intense that I'd never seen before. And when the party finally ended and everyone else had gone home, Ryan included, Jake lingered by the front door for just a moment too long.

"Do you need help cleaning up?" he'd asked, his voice as though it was something physical and he was caressing me with it.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I can handle it."

And then, without any warning, he gently tilted my chin up with his fingers. His touch was soft but deliberate, and the way his eyes held mine sent a shiver down my spine, making it hard to breathe.

"Okay," he murmured, his eyes locked with mine for just a second too long before he turned and walked out the door. Walking away at the wrong moment has always been something he's good at.

I'd been left standing there, staring at the empty space where he'd been, feeling like I'd missed something important, like maybe if I'd said yes, things between us would be different now. But then again, maybe that moment had passed, and we were destined to remain just friends forever.

Or so I thought until yesterday.

The shrill ring of my phone pulls me out of my thoughts, and I jump slightly in my seat, reaching for it on the table next to my cereal bowl. Who's calling me now? I ask myself.

My heart sinks as I see my best friend's name flashing across the screen—Emma, one of the few people from college who still keeps in touch with me. She's different.

"Hey, Em," I say, putting the phone to my ear and trying to sound more cheerful than I feel right now. "What's up?"

There's a pause on the other end before Emma speaks. "Hey, Mia! Long time no talk! Listen, I was wondering if you were still in town—"

I cut her off with a sigh. "Yeah, I'm here," I say, rolling my eyes at myself for being so unenthusiastic. But honestly, what's the point? My life feels like it's in shambles right now. I wish I weren't here. Being in close proximity to my crush is destroying me.

"Oh good!" Emma exclaims, oblivious to my less-than-stellar mood. She's always been overly self-absorbed. "Because guess who just got invited to a wedding this weekend?"

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