Off-Limits

Too Close

Lena’s Pov

By the fourth day of living in Ethan’s apartment, I realized that I had spent my entire life completely wrong about him. I used to think he was just a quiet, boring statue of a guy who only cared about hitting hockey puycks and lifting heavy weights. But living under the same roof with him showed me a whole different person. He was actually funny in a quiet, subtle way, and he was softer than anyone ever gave him credit for. He always remembered to leave the small hallway light on for me at night, and he even left a hot travel mug of fresh coffee on the kitchen counter every single morning before he left for early practice.

It was those small, thoughtful things that made my heart do weird flips every time he was in the room.

It was almost midnight on Thursday, and the whole apartment was dim and peaceful. I couldn't sleep, so I crept out to the kitchen in my oversized pajamas to grab a glass of ice water. When I walked into the dark living room, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Ethan was sitting alone on the long grey couch, staring out the floor to ceiling glass windows at the glowing city lights below. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just a pair of loose grey sweatpants, and his broad back looked so strong and warm in the moonlight. He held an ice pack against his right shoulder, his dark eyes looking sad and completely lost in thought.

"Ethan?" I asked softly, my voice barely more than a whisper in the quiet room.

He flinched slightly, quickly setting the ice pack down on the coffee table and sitting up straight. "Lena. Hey. Did I wake you up?"

"No, I couldn't sleep," I said, walking over to the couch. The room felt warm, and standing near him made my skin feel suddenly prickly with electricity. I sat down on the far end of the soft sofa, pulling my knees up to my chest. "Is your shoulder hurting again?"

"Just a little sore from practice today," he said, giving me a tiny, reassuring smile. But the sadness in his eyes didn't go away.

"You look like you're carrying the weight of the entire world on your back," I said softly, looking at him with deep concern. "You always look so serious, Ethan. Even when the team wins a big game, you barely smile. Why are you always so guarded?"

Ethan turned his head to look at me. In the dim light from the city, his dark eyes were full of a intense emotion that made my breath catch in my throat. He looked like he wanted to reach out and touch my face, like he wanted to say a hundred different things, but then he quickly looked away, clenching his jaw tightly.

"It's just... hockey used to be simple for me," Ethan murmured, his voice sounding low and raspy. He stared at his hands, folding and unfolding his long fingers. "When I was younger, I just played because I loved it. But then something happened a few years ago. Something bad. And after that day, everything changed. I realized how easily one mistake can ruin everything you care about."

My heart started beating faster against my ribs. There was so much pain in his voice, a deep, heavy guilt that I had never noticed before.

"What happened, Ethan?" I asked, leaning a little bit closer to him on the couch. I reached out without thinking and gently touched his forearm. His skin was warm and rough, and he froze the instant my fingers made contact with his arm. "What mistake did you make?"

Ethan looked down at my hand on his arm, his chest rising and falling fast. He swallowed hard, and for a second, I thought he was finally going to let down his guard and trust me with his secret.

"I..." Ethan began, his voice shaking just a little bit. He shifted his eyes up to meet mine, and the intense heat in his gaze made my face turn completely red. "Lena, I can't"

Suddenly, the electronic lock on the front door beeped loudly, making us both jump.

The heavy front door swung wide open with a loud click, and the bright light from the hallway flooded into the dark living room. Marcus walked straight inside, carrying a small bag of clothes, his keys jingling in his hand.

"Hey, Ethan, the front desk guy let me up, I forgot my extra" Marcus cut himself off mid sentence.

He stopped dead in his tracks right in the middle of the entryway, his eyes widening in total shock as he looked at us.

I pulled my hand back from Ethan’s arm so fast it felt like I had touched a burning hot stove. I scrambled backward on the couch, my cheeks burning with a deep, humiliating blush. Ethan sat up straight, his face instantly turning back into a cool, calm mask, though I could hear his heavy breathing in the sudden silence of the room.

Marcus’s eyes darted from me, sitting on the couch in my cozy pajamas with my face bright red, to Ethan, who was sitting right beside me with no shirt on in the dark.

"What's going on here?" Marcus asked, his voice suddenly dropping into a low, dangerous growl. He stepped further into the living room, setting his bag on the floor with a heavy thud. He looked back and forth between us, his eyebrows pulled down in a tight, angry line. "Why are you two sitting together in the pitch dark at midnight?"

"Marcus, it's not what it looks like!" I said quickly, standing up from the couch so fast my head spun. "I couldn't sleep, so I came out to get water, and Ethan was just sitting here because his shoulder was hurting!"

Marcus didn't look at me. He kept his sharp, angry gaze locked entirely on Ethan, who stood up slowly from the couch, facing his best friend without blinking.

"Is that true, Cahallan?" Marcus demanded, crossing his thick arms over his chest. "Because you two look awfully comfortable with each other. A little *too* comfortable."

"Nothing happened, Marcus," Ethan said calmly, his deep voice totally steady, though I could see his fists clenching tight at his sides. "She was just asking if I needed ice for my shoulder. We were just talking."

Marcus stared at Ethan for a long, silent moment, the air in the room turning so thick and tense that I could barely draw a breath. Marcus had known Ethan for years, but right now, he was looking at him like he didn't trust him at all.

"Right," Marcus grunted, though his voice sounded completely unconvinced. He grabbed his bag off the floor, his eyes darting back to me one last time with deep suspicion. "I came to get my spare hockey gear from the closet. I'll be quick."

As Marcus stomped down the hallway toward the spare room, I looked over at Ethan. My heart was pounding like a jackhammer inside my chest. Ethan was staring straight ahead, his jaw locked tight, looking more stressed than I had ever seen him. The tiny spark of closeness we had just shared was completely gone, replaced by a dark, terrifying danger that felt like it was about to explode right in front of us.