Forbidden Flame in family

Simran Request

it was just another ordinary day in the Mehta household. Every second felt like the one before it.
Jay Mehta, the head of the family, was nearly forty-six, though he didn't look a day over forty. He took care of himself well. Ten years earlier, after losing his first wife to cancer, he had married Rukmini. She had been thirty at the time and still looked no older than twenty-five. With her came her daughter, Simran, who was nine then. Now nineteen, Simran still looked more like Rukmini's younger sister than her daughter.
Jay had two sons of his own—Rohan and Arav. Arav was just hitting his teens, the most mischievous and restless person in the house. Rohan was the family's pride: he had cracked the toughest exams, studied at one of the best colleges, and now worked at a top MNC on a handsome package. Tall, well-built, and sharp, he was the kind of man every girl noticed.
Simran had just finished her twelfth grade and joined a B.Tech program. College felt like freedom after years of feeling caged. She noticed couples everywhere on campus, and something restless stirred inside her.
Both brothers were athletic. Rohan hit the gym regularly and carried a lean, chiseled physique. Arav played football in school; at six feet tall and always moving, he had girls trailing after him. Rohan stood five-eleven with a model's body. When he dressed for office, he looked like he had stepped out of a magazine. Office flings were not unheard of.
Every summer their parents left for a two-week vacation. That left Simran as the only woman in the house, responsible for looking after her brothers and making sure they ate properly.
Rohan was an early riser. He had set up a small gym on the large balcony and worked out there most mornings. More than once Simran had caught him bare-chested, sweat sliding down the hard lines of his chest and stomach, wearing only thin shorts that did little to hide the heavy outline between his legs. Each time her heart skipped. A strange mix of love and heat twisted inside her whenever she saw him like that.
In front of their parents she kept up a show of irritation toward him. Alone with him, though, she melted. Rohan never quite understood why she swung between the two moods. He treated her like a princess—brought her chocolates, took her on long bike rides for late-night ice cream whenever she asked. Between him and their father, her wishes almost always came true. Arav usually ended up craving the same things and tagging along.
Something about Rohan pulled at her. She couldn't name it, only feel it. They shared the same blood and the same house, yet the pull remained. She was studying Computer Science; he was already a software engineer. He had told her she could come to him with any doubt, any question, any time.
Lately the coursework had started to overwhelm her. When she asked for help, Rohan simply said, "Come every night from ten to twelve. By then dinner's done and it'll just be the two of us."
The way he said it—quiet, steady, eyes on hers a second longer than necessary—made her stomach tighten.