Page 8 of Off-Limits

He left, just like that. It's unbelievable!

"Fine," I mutter to myself, turning back towards the water. "If he doesn't want to swim with me, then fuck it. I'll do it alone."

I was already ready to do it alone, anyway. It's not like his absence is going to make a huge difference.

And so, inhaling deeply, I slip out of my cutoff shorts and pull off my band tee, revealing the bikini I put on earlier. I don't know why Jake is being such an asshole about this, but I refuse to let him ruin my plans for a relaxing afternoon in the sun.

Without hesitation, I dive into the pool, the cool water enveloping me like a long-lost friend. It feels amazing, exactly what I needed after the past few days of stress and tension. As I surface and wipe the water from my eyes, I can't help but smile at the thought of how Jake would react if he could see me now. But maybe he is and I just can't see him. It's possible.

Still, maybe it's better he's doing something else. Because as much as I hate to admit it, there's a part of me that wonders if maybe, no matter how small the chance is, his reluctance has something to do with the fact that he can't control himselfaround me, not when we're both half-dressed and alone by the pool.

The thought sends a shiver down my spine, despite the heat, and I push it aside, focusing instead on the sensation of the water against my skin. This is what I need right now, to clear my mind and find some semblance of peace in the chaos that has become my life.

I swim laps for what feels like hours, losing track of time as I move through the water with ease. The pool has always helped me think clearly and gain perspective, and today is no different.

Seconds later, I climb out of the pool and stand by the edge, wringing water from my hair with a towel. Just then, I hear the patio door slide open behind me. Turning around, I see Jake approaching, his expression serious.

"Mia," he says, his voice tight as he stops a few feet away from me. "We need to talk."

I raise an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering nervously in my stomach. This feels so serious, like he's about to change my life forever.

"About what?"

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "About... us."

He looks so nervous, and it only seems to get worse. It's strange. I never thought this would happen.

My heart leaps into my throat, and I can't help but feel excitement and trepidation at the thought of finally having this conversation with him. But as much as I want to dive right in, I also know that we need to be careful, especially if Ryan is going to find out about whatever this is between us.

"What do you mean, 'us'?" I ask carefully, keeping my voice neutral. "We're just friends, remember?"

Jake's jaw tightens at the reminder, and he takes another step closer to me. "You know that's not true," he says softly. "Not after... everything that's happened."

I swallow hard, feeling the truth of his words like a physical force between us. Because as much as I might want to deny it, there's no use pretending anymore. That kiss by the pool before he was deployed in the military, those almost-encounters in the kitchen and the hallway... they've changed things between us, whether we like it or not.

"I know," I admit quietly, meeting his gaze head-on. "But I wonder what it really changes."

Jake's expression darkens at my words, and he takes another step closer, closing the distance between us until we're standing mere inches apart. I can feel the heat radiating off his body, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to reach out and touch him.

"And why not?" Jake challenges me, his eyes holding me captive. "Because you keep saying we shouldn't, but then you turn around and kiss me like it's the only thing you've ever wanted to do."

That's actually true. It's the only thing I've ever wanted to do.

I'm not the only one at fault here. Everything that's happened between us is on him too. It wouldn't have become this mess if he hadn't played a part.

I swallow hard, taken aback by the sudden intensity in his eyes—and by the truth of his words. Because as much as I might try to deny it, there's no use pretending that I don't want him, not when every fiber of my being is screaming at me to give in to this thing between us.

"Jake," I start, but he cuts me off with a sharp shake of his head.

"No," he says firmly. "You can't keep doing this. Saying one thing and then acting like you want something else entirely."

His reaction is... something else, to say the least. I thought we were just playing around and goofing off, at least from his point of view. But it turns out it's always been serious to him.

Which is interesting, because when we met the night I came back, he seemed way less serious about the tension between us. Now he's acting so differently, it's almost like he's a completely different man.

I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling defensive and more than a little irritated by the accusation in his voice. "And what am I supposed to do?" I shoot back. "Just forget about everything that's happened between us? Pretend like none of it ever happened?"

There's a lot of history between us, things that I'd rather not remember. That's why this conversation feels so personal.

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