4

The kitchen filled with the warm, savory scent of garlic and tomatoes as everyone pitched in for dinner. Jake stood at the stove stirring a big pot of pasta sauce, wooden spoon in one hand, beer in the other. 

Sarah chopped vegetables at the island, laughing at something Jake had said. Ethan drained the spaghetti in the sink, steam rising around his forearms. 

Mia set the table, moving between them in a simple white tank top and soft cotton shorts that rode up whenever she reached for a plate. Everything felt normal—college kids on break, making a casual family meal like they had a hundred times before.

Jake grinned as he tasted the sauce. “Man, next semester is gonna suck. That stats class is kicking my ass already. You taking anything brutal this fall, Ethan?”

Ethan shrugged while shaking the colander. “Probably advanced bio. Professor’s a hardass, but at least the labs are interesting. What about you, squirt?” He glanced at Mia without thinking, the old nickname slipping out easy. “First year treating you okay so far?”

Mia looked up from folding napkins, her dark hair falling over one shoulder. She offered a small smile. “It’s been okay. A lot of gen eds. The campus is huge though—keeps getting lost.” She stepped closer to grab the salt shaker from the counter beside him, her hip brushing his thigh for a second. 

The contact was light, almost nothing, but she didn’t pull away immediately. Her tank top dipped just enough at the neckline to show the soft upper curve of her breasts and a faint scatter of freckles across her chest that the sun had brought out yesterday by the pool.

Ethan’s grip on the colander tightened. He kept his eyes on the pasta, but his mind flashed—yesterday, that tiny black bikini clinging wet to her body, the way the triangles barely covered her perky nipples, the way those strings disappeared between the smooth cheeks of her ass when she climbed out of the pool. He felt his cock twitch in his shorts and cursed silently.

Jake kept talking, oblivious. “Yeah, Mia’s been texting me pictures of her dorm. Looks tiny. You should come visit sometime, Ethan—show her around the good spots before she gets stuck eating dining hall crap forever.”

Sarah laughed, sliding the chopped peppers into the sauce. “That sounds fun. We could all do a weekend trip once classes start.”

Mia reached past Ethan again for the parmesan, this time letting her bare arm graze his. The skin-on-skin touch lingered a fraction longer than necessary. She smelled like vanilla body wash and something sweeter underneath. “I’d like that,” she said softly, voice casual. Her eyes flicked up to meet his for a beat—innocent, almost shy—before she turned back to the table.

Ethan’s pulse kicked up. Heat pooled low in his gut. He shifted his weight, trying to hide the way his cock was starting to thicken against the fabric of his shorts. Fuck. She was right there, close enough that if he moved an inch he’d feel the warmth of her body again. 

Those freckles on her chest kept drawing his eyes, the way her tank top stretched across her breasts when she leaned forward. Overnight, it seemed, the kid who used to beg for piggyback rides had turned into this—soft curves, long legs, that quiet confidence in the way she moved.

He needed air.

“Sauce looks good,” he muttered, setting the colander down a little harder than necessary. “I’m gonna step out for a minute. Grab some fresh air before we eat.”

Jake waved the spoon without looking up. “Yeah, yeah—don’t let it burn, man.”

Ethan pushed through the sliding glass door onto the back porch. The evening air was still warm but carried a faint breeze. He yanked his t-shirt over his head in one motion, tossing it onto a chair. 

The cool air hit his bare chest, but it did nothing to calm the blood rushing south. He pulled a cigarette from the pack he kept hidden on the porch railing, lit it, and took a long drag, staring out at the pool where everything had started yesterday.

His mind wouldn’t shut up.

She’s Jake’s little sister. Technically my little sister too. I’ve known her since she was six, for fuck’s sake.* 

But the images kept coming—yesterday in that bikini, water streaming down her skin, the way the tiny bottoms had ridden up when she bent over the lounge chair, the soft bounce of her breasts as she dove into the pool. 

Those perky tits with the freckles dusting the tops, nipples hard and visible through the wet fabric. The way she had looked up at him through wet lashes and asked if he liked the suit. Innocent. Teasing. Dangerous.

His cock stiffened fully now, pressing insistently against his shorts. He cursed sharply under his breath, smoke curling from his lips.

“Bro code,” he muttered, repeating it like a mantra. “She’s off-limits. Jake would kill me. I have a girlfriend. Sarah’s great. This is nothing. Just hormones or whatever the fuck this is. I’m not doing something stupid.”

He took another drag, raking a hand through his hair. The smoke burned his lungs, but the ache in his groin didn’t ease. How long could he keep this up? Every time Mia got close—every brush, every stretch, every soft “Ethan” in that sweet voice—his body reacted like he was seventeen again.

 She had changed so fast. One day she was the squirt tagging along; the next she was this pretty lady with those freckled breasts and hips that swayed just right.

He wasn’t going to ruin everything. Not for a stupid lust that had no business existing.

The door slid open behind him. Sarah stepped out, barefoot, her blonde hair loose. “Hey… you okay out here? Dinner’s almost ready.”

Ethan forced a smile, flicking ash into the tray. “Yeah, I’m good. Just needed some fresh air. It was getting warm in there.”

She walked closer, tilting her head. “You sure? You seem a little off tonight.”

He leaned down and kissed her—soft, familiar. “Positive. I’ll be back in a minute. Go ahead and start without me if you want.”

Sarah smiled, kissed his cheek, and headed back inside. “Don’t take too long.”

The door clicked shut. Ethan exhaled hard, crushing the half-smoked cigarette under his shoe. He ruffled his hair roughly, staring at the pool again. The water shimmered under the porch light, reflecting yesterday’s memories like a taunt.

“Whatever this is,” he said quietly to the empty yard, “it stops now. She’s squirt. Jake’s sister. My best friend’s sister. End of story.”

He picked up his discarded shirt, pulled it back on, and headed inside. The smell of pasta greeted him. Jake was already plating food, Sarah setting glasses on the table. Mia looked up from her seat, her tank top still dipping low enough to show those faint freckles, her eyes meeting his across the room—soft, curious, completely unaware (or so she seemed).

Ethan’s jaw tightened. He forced his legs to move, sliding into his chair like nothing was wrong.

But as Mia passed him the bread basket, her fingers brushed his again and his cock gave another stubborn twitch beneath the table.

Dinner continued with easy conversation, laughter, and clinking forks. On the surface, everything stayed normal. Underneath, the simmer had only grown hotter.