"Like what?"
"Like... like you want me to kiss you."
The air between us was electric. My heart hammered against my ribs.
"Maybe I do," I whispered, barely audible.
And then—
Ace closed the distance and crushed his mouth to mine.
It wasn't soft. It wasn't tentative. It was raw, desperate, almost angry. His hand slid around the back of my neck, pulling me closer, and I gasped against him, my fingers clutching his shirt.
He groaned, low in his throat, when I kissed him back. His tongue traced my bottom lip, and without thinking, I parted for him. It was messy, hungry, chaotic. I could taste the beer on his tongue, feel the wild beat of his heart against my chest.
I moaned—quietly, involuntarily.
That was the breaking point.
Ace tore away like I’d slapped him, stumbling back with wide, panicked eyes. He cursed under his breath, raking both hands through his hair.
"Shit. Fuck. Brit, no. Shit."
I blinked, stunned, touching my lips, still swollen from the kiss.
"Ace?" My voice was small, broken.
He started pacing, running his hand over his face. "This is bad. This is so fucking bad."
"Why?" I asked, stepping toward him.
"Because!" he exploded, spinning to face me. "You're Jasper's little sister! You're off-limits!"
I flinched, the words slicing through me like knives.
"It didn’t feel off-limits a second ago," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He laughed bitterly, a harsh sound. "Yeah, well, it was a mistake."
The words hit harder than any slap.
I stared at him, my chest caving in on itself. "A mistake," I repeated numbly.
Ace looked at me, regret written all over his face. "Brit... you don't understand. If Jasper knew—"
"I'm not a kid!" I snapped. "I’m eighteen! This is my life!"
"It doesn’t matter!" he shouted, then lowered his voice. "It doesn’t matter. You're his sister. That’s the line I can't cross."
"You already did."
Silence fell between us, thick and suffocating.
"You should go," he muttered finally, voice hoarse. "We can’t be in the same room right now."
"Ace..." I tried again, stepping toward him, needing to fix it, needing to fix us.
He backed away like I was poison. "Don’t. Please, Brit. Just don’t."
