Off limits: Falling For My Brother's Best friend

Chapter 1

Lila’s POV

I stared out the window as the winding road carried us toward our summer house in South Carolina.

We came here every year, but this time it was different—no parents. Mom and Dad were away on a long business trip, and instead of canceling the vacation, they left my older brother in charge, convinced we were responsible enough to handle ourselves.

I would turn eighteen in a few days, yet the usual excitement never showed up.

Because he wouldn’t be here.

Roman Cole. My brother’s best friend.

Five years had passed since the last time I saw him—since he packed a bag and left without even a goodbye. For as long as I could remember he had been a constant in my life, always teasing, always pushing buttons.

He left when he was eighteen. I was thirteen, still flat-chested, silver braces on my teeth, thick glasses sliding down my nose.

To everyone else he was the classic bad boy—arrogant, covered in ink, reckless, and dangerously attractive.

But to me he was also the boy who taught me how to ride a bike and slipped candy into my hands when my parents said no. A walking contradiction. Too wild. Too off-limits.

And yet I remembered everything about him.

He used to join every summer, diving off docks and building bonfires that were always too big. He and my brother would sneak beers while I pretended not to notice, and he always tossed me into the water the second I threatened to tell on them.

“We’re here, Lila,” my brother called, pulling me out of the memory as the car turned into the driveway.

The house looked exactly the same—wide front porch, sun-bleached shutters, that easy summer charm only a place like this could have. The air smelled of pine and salt, and for a moment it felt like no time had passed at all.

I headed inside with my bags, the wooden floors creaking under my feet. We already knew our rooms, and a wave of nostalgia hit me the second I stepped into mine.

The first thing I did was take a long bath. When I finally climbed out, my stomach was growling. I wrapped myself in a towel and padded down the hallway, damp ginger hair darkening against my back.

I yawned, stretched, and made my way toward the kitchen for a snack.

That was when I saw the unfamiliar figure standing there, back turned, too solid and broad to belong to my brother.

I froze. My heart lurched.

He was bent over the open fridge like he owned the place, his presence filling the entire room.

I couldn’t move. I just stood there, wide-eyed. But it wasn’t fear.

His scent hit me first—a mix of cinnamon, lavender, and something unmistakably male. It stirred something deep in my chest. Then I noticed the rose tattoo on his left shoulder.

A memory flashed: ten-year-old me pointing at a random rose design in a magazine and telling a certain person it would look better on his arm.

I stumbled back as the realization crashed over me.

No.  

It couldn’t be.

“Roman?”

He turned at the sound of my voice. His eyes met mine with a flicker of surprise… and something else I couldn’t name.

It was really him.

Roman Cole.

Older. Taller. Devastatingly hotter.

His brown hair was longer than I remembered, pulled back into a messy half-bun. His jaw was sharper, dusted with stubble that only made him look more like the kind of man mothers warned their daughters about.

His muscles flexed beneath a tight tank top as he shut the fridge door. Sweatpants hung low on his hips, revealing deep V-lines that made my face heat.

Then the tattoos—more of them now. Black ink trailing down his arms, wrapping around his biceps, climbing up his neck.

He fully faced me. His gaze dragged slowly down my body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

When his eyes finally met mine again, he smiled, showing perfect white teeth.

“Long time no see, kid.” His deep voice snapped me back to reality.

I flinched—and then the worst possible thing happened.

My towel slipped.

For a split second the entire world went still.

His smile vanished. His eyes went wide. His jaw clenched.

And I turned redder than a ripe tomato.

“Oh my God!” I gasped, scrambling to snatch the towel off the floor. My fingers trembled as I wrapped it around myself again. Then I spun on my heel and bolted.

I didn’t look back. I couldn’t.

Once I reached my room I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, chest heaving, wondering what the hell had just happened.

“Fuck.” I sank to the floor in a heap of pure mortification, face buried in my knees.

Roman Cole was back.

And I had just flashed him like the female lead in a terrible rom-com.

To make matters worse, I wasn’t a kid anymore.

And from the way he looked at me…  

he knew it.

---

I stayed in my room for what felt like forever, though it was only a few hours. I lay face-down on the bed, replaying the nightmare moment over and over while a thousand questions spun through my mind.

When did he come back?  

Why was he here?  

Why now?

A soft knock pulled me out of my spiral.

“Lils?” It was Ethan, my brother—the only one who still called me that. His voice was cautious but cheerful. “You haven’t come out since we got here. You okay?”

Oh, I had come out all right. And I was deeply regretting it.

When I didn’t answer he sighed. “Anyway, just wanted to give you a heads-up… Roman’s back. Said he was in town and wanted to surprise me. So I figured we’d throw him a little welcome party tonight. It’ll be just like old times.”

I clutched my pillow tighter, feeling my heart sink a little.

Of course he came for Ethan.

It had always been that way. Roman looked for my brother first, and I was just the best friend’s little sister.

For some reason that had always bothered me.

I thought Ethan had left, but then another knock came.

“You can come too, Lila.”

My ears perked. I sat up immediately.

“Really?” I called, but his footsteps were already fading down the hallway.

---

It wasn’t long before music started thumping through the house. Cars filled the backyard—way more than a simple welcome party should have drawn.

Ethan was throwing a full-blown party, and for the first time he wasn’t ordering me to stay upstairs.

No “You’re too young.”  

No “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”  

Just an open invitation.

I dragged myself out of bed and stood in front of the mirror, wrapped in leftover embarrassment.

Something inside me shifted.

Without overthinking it, I dried my hair, threw on black denim shorts and an off-shoulder crop top, pulled my ginger curls into a low bun, and added a touch of lip gloss and mascara that made my green eyes stand out.

The second I stepped out of my room the whole house was alive—people dancing, laughter mixing with the music.

Even in the crowd, I hated how easily I spotted him.

The man of the hour.

Roman.

He leaned casually against the kitchen counter, beer in one hand, the other tracing a tattoo on his forearm. As always, girls surrounded him.

It shouldn’t have surprised me. It never failed to make my stomach twist.

I forced my gaze away and headed for the drinks, double-checking that Ethan wasn’t nearby. I was practically eighteen already—what was a couple of days?

I grabbed an abandoned cup of punch and downed it, then reached for a bottle of beer.

Just as my fingers closed around it, another hand snatched it away.

I blinked, startled, and looked up to find Roman looming behind me.

“You’re not old enough to drink yet, kid.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to step around him, but he moved into my path, his large frame blocking me completely.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” He sounded almost confused, too casual for someone who had disappeared for five years—or for someone who had seen me naked a few hours ago.

I tried going the other way. He stopped me again. I sighed, still unable to meet his eyes.

“Can you move?”

Roman raised an eyebrow, a taunting smirk playing on his lips. “Come on, Lila. You’re still—”

“Truth or Dare, everyone! Get your asses in here!” someone yelled from the living room, cutting him off.

Perfect timing.

I pushed past him into the living room. He followed, his presence heavy as his cologne.

They started the game. I was lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I’d never played Truth or Dare before, and Ethan was nowhere in sight. No one even seemed to know I was his little sister, and the anonymity felt strangely freeing.

“Are you sure you wanna play this game, kid?”

I stilled as Roman’s voice brushed against my ear. He stood right behind me, elbows propped on the back of the couch, far too close for me to think straight.

But there was a challenge in his tone—maybe a hint of sarcasm—and I wasn’t going to let him win.

“Yes, I am,” I answered firmly, heart pounding.

The game began easily enough. A few embarrassing truths, a couple of dumb dares. I blinked hard, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

The room spun a little. Then Roman’s name was called.

“I dare you to pick any of the girls here and spend seven minutes in heaven with them. In the closet.”

The room erupted in laughter and cheers.

My pulse thundered in my ears. I could barely make out what was happening—until a large hand wrapped around my wrist and pulle

d me up.

“Hey?!”

It was Roman.

And he had chosen me.

I tried to yank free, but he was too strong. Before I could do anything else we were already inside the closet, and the door clicked shut behind us.