Off Limits

Callie With the morning sunlight streaming through the blinds. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling fan spinning in slow, lazy circles, trying to convince myself I hadn’t imagined the night before. But I hadn't. He was real. Grayson Carter was real. The man in the kitchen, a man with rough stubble along a hardened jawline. I sat up, clutching the sheets. My heart had been playing a ridiculous rhythm ever since I stepped into that kitchen. I shouldn’t be this affected. It had been years. I was just a kid the last time he saw me. He was Mia's dad. Her off-limits, twice-my-age dad who had no business looking like he'd stepped out of a damn rugged calendar shoot. I shoved the thoughts away and got up. My suitcase lay half-unpacked at the foot of the bed, clothes spilling out in messy chaos. I tugged on a tank top and shorts, twisted my curls into a messy bun and headed downstairs, determined to act normal. Like my heart hadn't tried to beat its way out of my chest last night

Grayson I hadn’t meant to touch her.It was instinct. A reflex. The kind of automatic gesture a father might make, only I wasn’t her father and there was nothing paternal about the way I felt when her eyes opened and caught me there, fingers still tangled in her hair.I didn’t sleep that night. I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, pulse heavy in my throat, every second replaying in a loop. The warmth of her skin. The way her lashes fluttered. The slow parting of her lips when she realized how close we were.Stupid.Reckless.Off-limits.By the time the sun rose, I’d made a decision.This couldn’t continue.I needed distance. Rules. Clarity. Before something irreversible happened.The smell of coffee pulled me into the kitchen. Mia had already left. I expected the house to be quiet.But there she was.Callie.Hair in a messy bun. One of Mia’s oversized band tees sliding off her shoulder. Bare legs, smooth and glowing under the fluorescent light.She turned, startled. "Oh—morning."M

Callie The sun had barely started to filter through the curtains when I rolled over and checked my phone, 9:14 a.m. Mia was still passed out in her room. Grayson was already gone, his truck was missing from the driveway. The silence in the house settled over me. After everything that happened by the pool, I’d half expected to wake up to a confrontation. Maybe a stern lecture or another round of I-set-the-rules-and-you’ll-follow-them. But nothing. Not a word, not even a single glance when he dropped his coffee mug in the sink before heading out the door earlier. It was like the moment never happened. Only it did and I hadn’t forgotten. I spent the next hour trying to keep myself busy. Cleaned up the kitchen. Sorted my laundry. Scrolled through my phone. None of it worked. His voice, gravel deep looped in my head like a broken record. “Because the thought of something h

Callie Grayson's breath was rough against my skin, his lips licking my collarbone like he was trying to taste the feel of me. We hadn’t crossed the line, not yet. Clothes still clung to our skin, but the pull between us was no longer tension. I should’ve pulled away. I should’ve said something. But I didn’t. He kissed all through to my lips then rested his forehead against mine, neither of us moved. "Are you okay?" he murmured, voice hoarse. I nodded. "Yeah." Grayson leaned back just enough to look at me, his gaze searching. His hand, still warm on my waist, gave the slightest squeeze before he pulled away slowly We stood there, inches apart, hearts pounding in sync. He cleared his throat and took a full step back. "We shouldn’t…" "I know." "Not like this." "I know." The space between us widened but the ache didn’t ease. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to steady the tremble in my limbs that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the

Callie We hadn’t cleared the air since last night. I hadn’t seen much of Grayson all day. He’d been out on errands, the kind of errands that seemed suspiciously convenient for avoiding me. I told myself that was fine. That space was good. Maybe if I didn’t see him, I could breathe again. But when the low, steady rumble of his truck rolled up the driveway in the late afternoon, my stomach tightened. I was sitting cross-legged on the living room rug, sorting through a stack of old magazines Mia had left piled in the corner. She had this habit of keeping every glossy issue she ever bought, convinced she would “rip pages for inspiration” one day. Half of them still had subscription inserts falling out. The hum of the fridge in the kitchen was the only sound until my phone buzzed beside me. Unknown number. I frowned, thumb hovering over the screen. I didn’t recognize it, not from my contact list, not from memory. Decline. I barely had time to set the phone down before it buzzed