The sun dipped low behind the trees, spilling gold across the backyard. Laughter drifted from the deck where my parents had set out food and drinks, the kind of summer gathering that felt timeless—family friends, neighbors, and of course, my brother with his usual entourage. Ethan was never far from him, which meant he was never far from me.
I tried not to watch him. I really did. But he was everywhere. At the grill with my brother, teasing him about burning the burgers. Carrying folding chairs from the garage, his shirt stretched tight across his back. Tossing a football with the younger cousins, his easy smile tugging at me until I had to look away.
Every time our eyes met, though, it was like a current shot between us. Quick. Hot. Dangerous.
I stood near the picnic table, helping my mom arrange condiments, when Ethan walked past me carrying a stack of plates. His arm brushed mine, deliberate or not I couldn't tell, but the touch sent heat straight through me. I sucked in a breath, glancing up.
His gaze caught mine for half a second too long. A silent acknowledgment. A secret no one else could see.
My mom didn't notice. My brother didn't notice. But my body did. Every nerve ending came alive.
---
Dinner was a blur of chatter and clinking glasses. I sat across from Ethan at the long patio table, pretending to focus on my plate while acutely aware of him. The way his hand curled around his beer bottle. The way his leg stretched out under the table, brushing dangerously close to mine.
Halfway through the meal, it happened. His knee touched mine.
At first, I thought it was an accident. I shifted slightly, giving him space. But then he pressed back, firmer this time, his eyes never leaving his food. Heat rushed up my body, pooling low in my stomach.
I should have moved. I should have pulled away. But instead, I stayed. My skin tingled where we connected, a secret touch hidden beneath the tablecloth while the people around us laughed and ate as if nothing was happening.
When dessert was finally served, I could barely taste it. My brother cracked jokes beside Ethan, oblivious. My parents passed slices of pie, unaware that under the table, Ethan's knee still pressed against mine, a steady reminder of everything I wasn't supposed to want.
---
As the evening wound down, people trickled out. My parents cleaned up inside, my brother disappeared with a couple of friends, and suddenly the backyard was quiet. The fire pit still glowed, throwing sparks into the night air.
Ethan lingered. Of course he did.
I was gathering plates when his voice came low behind me. "Need help?"
I turned, and he was closer than I expected. Too close. His eyes glinted in the firelight, that stormy gray cutting straight through me.
"I've got it," I whispered, though my hands trembled as I stacked the dishes.
He didn't move. "You sure?"
The question wasn't about the plates. We both knew it.
Silence stretched between us, heavy and charged. My heart pounded so hard I thought he'd hear it.
Finally, I whispered, "Ethan… we can't."
"I know," he said, his voice rough. But his hand reached out anyway, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His fingertips lingered at my jaw, and I shivered.
"Someone could see," I breathed, though my protest was weak.
"No one's looking." His thumb traced lightly along my cheekbone, and for the first time I saw something in his eyes I had never let myself imagine—desire. Raw and unguarded.
It was reckless. It was wrong. It was inevitable.
His mouth was on mine before I could think.
The kiss was fire—hungry, desperate, years of unspoken tension igniting all at once. My back hit the side of the table as his hands framed my face, his lips moving against mine with a need that stole my breath.
I should have stopped him. I should have pushed him away. But instead, I clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, drinking him in like I'd been starving for this without even knowing it.
When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing hard.
"This is dangerous," I whispered.
"I don't care," he murmured, his lips brushing mine again. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll stop."
But I couldn't. The words wouldn't come. Because the truth was, I wanted him more than I'd ever wanted anything.
And in that quiet backyard, with the fire crackling and our families just inside, I let myself fall.
---
The night stretched on in fragments of touch and stolen breaths. He kissed me again, softer this time, his hands trembling like he was holding back a storm. I melted against him, the world narrowing to the heat of his body and the taste of his lips.
Every sound from the house made us flinch, but neither of us pulled away. If anything, the risk only made it sharper, hotter.
At one point, voices drifted from the kitchen window—my brother laughing about something—and I pressed a hand to Ethan's chest, panicked.
He caught my wrist, holding it gently, his thumb stroking over my pulse. "We'll be careful," he whispered. "But don't ask me to pretend I don't feel this."
I stared up at him, my breath shallow. I knew we were standing on the edge of something we couldn't undo. But God, I didn't want to undo it.
---
When we finally parted, it was only because we had to. My brother stepped out onto the deck, calling Ethan's name. We sprang apart like guilty teenagers, my lips still swollen, my heart still racing.
Ethan shot me one last look—intense, unspoken, a promise and a warning all at once—before striding up to join him.
I stood in the shadows of the fire pit, touching my lips, wondering how I'd ever go back to pretending nothing had changed.
Because everything had.
---