Emily knows better. She always has.

But knowing and stopping are two very different things.

David’s daughter—his flesh and blood—should be off-limits. And yet, every night, she finds herself tangled in limbs that should have never been hers to claim. Stolen kisses, whispered confessions, the kind of indulgence that turns consequences into an afterthought.

She tells herself it’s reckless. That it can’t last. That he’ll find out. That the price of discovery is too steep—his friendship, his trust, everything.

It’s forbidden.

But then she feels soft lips pressed against her own, and God help her, there’s nothing else. Not the risk. Not the guilt. Just her.

---

The night is young, and David—of all people—has decided to throw a get-together.

Which means she’s here.

Emily keeps her expression neutral, keeps her dark eyes focused anywhere but the one place they want to land. Keeps her hands at her sides instead of tracing familiar lines against forbidden skin.

And yet, the restraint is killing her.

---

She lingers beside JJ, nodding along to conversation she barely hears, fingers curled loosely around her drink.

She can feel it—her—in the other room. It’s maddening.

Emily takes a breath, measured, steady, before excusing herself—something about needing the restroom.

But when she moves, she catches eyes. Holds the gaze just long enough. Just deliberate enough.

A silent invitation. A challenge. A mistake waiting to happen.

She barely makes it to the bathroom before she leans against the counter, exhaling slowly, bracing for what she already knows is coming.

The door creaks open.