Chapter 12: Off-Limits

I spent the next morning trying to act like the conversation in the paddock had never happened.

It didn’t work.

Every time Rex moved through the garage I felt the weight of what he had said. I’m starting to think the hatred was never real at all. The words followed me from the pit wall to the media area and back again. I kept the camera up. I kept my expression as neutral as I could manage. None of it erased the fact that he had seen me scared and decided it meant more than I wanted it to.

Victoria was still around. I caught a glimpse of her near the hospitality suite mid-morning, speaking with someone from the commercial team. I didn’t look long enough to see if Rex noticed her. I didn’t want to know what my face would do if I watched them interact again.

The real problem arrived just after midday.

Ethan showed up at the circuit without warning.

I was reviewing shots near the back of the garage when I heard his voice. My brother had a way of filling a space even when he wasn’t trying to. He clapped someone on the shoulder, asked a quick question about tire compounds, then his eyes found me across the busy floor.

He headed over.

“Didn’t know you were still here,” he said. “Mom thought you might come by the house later.”

“Working.” I lifted the camera slightly as proof. “Extra coverage this week.”

Ethan nodded, but his attention had already shifted past me. Rex was walking toward us, still in the race suit, helmet under one arm. The timing felt deliberate. Or maybe I was just seeing intention in everything now.

“There he is,” Ethan said. “Got a minute?”

Rex stopped beside us. His gaze flicked to me first, quick and unreadable, then settled on my brother.

“What’s up?”

Ethan glanced around, then angled his body slightly so the conversation stayed between the three of us. His tone stayed casual, but there was an undercurrent I recognized from years of living under his protective streak.

“Just making sure everyone remembers the boundaries,” he said. “Aria’s been around the team more. That’s fine. Work is work. But I don’t want any blurred lines.”

My stomach tightened.

Rex raised an eyebrow. “Blurred lines.”

“You know what I mean.” Ethan’s voice remained even, but his eyes were serious. “She’s my sister. You’re my best friend. Those two things don’t mix. They never have. I want to keep it that way.”

The words landed in the space between us with quiet force. I kept my face carefully blank, but my pulse had already started hammering. Rex’s expression didn’t change much. If anything, he looked almost thoughtful.

“You think I need the reminder?” he asked.

“I think it doesn’t hurt to say it out loud.” Ethan clapped a hand on Rex’s shoulder, the gesture friendly on the surface and firm underneath. “She’s off-limits. Always has been. I trust you. Don’t make me regret that.”

Rex held his gaze for a beat. Then he gave a small, easy shrug.

“Message received,” he said. “Loud and clear.”

Ethan studied him for another second, then nodded like the matter was settled. He turned to me.

“You coming by the house this week? Mom keeps asking.”

“I’ll try,” I managed.

“Good.” He checked his phone, already shifting back into motion. “I’ve got a meeting with the commercial side. Don’t work too late.”

He walked off. The garage noise rushed back in to fill the space he left behind.

I couldn’t look at Rex right away. The warning sat between us like a third person. Off-limits. The same rule that had always existed in the background, now spoken out loud at the exact moment it felt most dangerous.

Rex was quiet for a few seconds. When he finally spoke, his voice was low enough that only I could hear it.

“Interesting timing.”

“Don’t.”

“He has no idea,” Rex continued, almost to himself. “None.”

I finally met his eyes. “Leave it alone.”

“Hard to leave it alone when he just handed me a direct order not to touch something I’ve already touched.” His mouth curved slightly, but there was no real humor in it. “In a manner of speaking.”

Heat crawled up my neck. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be.” He glanced in the direction Ethan had gone, then back at me. “He means it. You know that.”

“I know.”

“And yet here we are.”

The quiet intensity in his voice made my stomach flip. I looked away, focusing on a random point across the garage while I tried to steady my breathing. The deal had already complicated everything. Ethan’s warning added another layer of risk that felt sharper than before.

Rex shifted his weight.

“He trusts me,” he said. “That’s the part that sits wrong. Not the rule. The trust.”

I didn’t know what to do with that. Part of me wanted to ask what he meant. The larger part of me knew I wouldn’t like the answer.

“I need to get back to work,” I said.

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

Rex studied me for a moment longer. Then he nodded once, slow.

“Go,” he said. “I’ll find you later.”

I walked away on legs that didn’t feel entirely steady. For the rest of the afternoon I kept my distance as much as the clearance schedule allowed. Every time I lifted the camera I was aware of Ethan’s words replaying in my head. She’s off-limits. Always has been. The rule had always been there. Hearing it spoken while Rex stood three feet away, knowing what he knew, made it feel like a fuse had been lit.

Victoria appeared once near the end of the day. I saw her speaking with Rex near the hospitality entrance. This time I forced myself not to stare. I turned my back and reviewed shots I had already reviewed twice. The effort cost me. When I finally glanced over again, she was gone and Rex was looking in my direction like he had felt the restraint from across the space.

I left as soon as I could.

The drive home did nothing to quiet my thoughts. Ethan’s warning. Rex’s reaction. The way he had said the trust sat wrong. All of it looped together with the memory of the spin and the conversation that followed. The walls I had built were developing cracks faster than I could patch them.

That night I tried to distract myself with editing. The images from the day filled the screen one after another. Clean shots. Technical shots. Too many frames where Rex dominated the composition without me fully intending it. I closed the software and set the camera aside.

My phone lit up on the nightstand.

I picked it up with a sense of inevitability.

Rex: Your brother has interesting timing.

Rex: Off-limits.

Rex: He’s right about one thing.

Rex: I did hear him loud and clear.

I stared at the screen, waiting for the rest. It came a few seconds later.

Rex: The problem is that hearing the rule doesn’t make me want to follow it.

Rex: If anything, it does the opposite.

Rex: Sleep on that, Aria.

Rex: Tomorrow we can talk about what happens when a rule is the only thing standing in the way.