Page 1 of Off-Limits Bad Boy

Chapter One

Emma

“Shouldn't you be playing with mocktails, Em?” Kade’s voice is a low rumble in the quiet; playful yet edged with a challenge.

My hands still on the bottles that I’m arranging in a pattern I swear only I know. With a deep sigh, I try not to feel annoyed at his dig. That’s typical Kade for ya. The guy is a grade-a jerk and my brother’s best friend. So I try not to tell him off too much.

I hate how he just swaggers in wearing that leather jacket and devil-may-care smirk. I glare at him over my shoulder, the kind of look that makes lesser men back off. “Why don't you find a corner to brood in, Kade? The adults are busy.” I adjust a bottle, turning it to be label out, even though I know by the end of the night, all my hard work will have been in vain.

He chuckles, his response, taking all the power out of my snarky response in that unflappable way only he has around me. I swear he likes the negative attention, but I can’t keep quiet or I’ll go insane. “Are you busy pretending you’re one of the adults now, Em?”

Gah, he drives me crazy. He leans on the counter, his eyebrow arching as he watches me.

“Mind your own business,” I say, pushing a bottle back a little too hard. The glass lets out a high-pitched clink as it meets the bottle behind it, making me wince. Honestly, the absolute last thing I need is his bad-boy bs disrupting my focus.

“Mmm, someone needs a nap.” His voice holds a dark note that sends an involuntary shiver down my spine.

“Seriously, Kade.” I look up from the shelf again, meeting those piercing dark eyes that always seem to see too much. “You need to learn that some thoughts don’t need to be said out loud.”

“You should hear what I keep back,” he says, his expression arresting me for a moment.

“You need to go away,” I say, feeling annoyed by and at him.

“Is that right?” He tilts his head, assessing me like one of his many adventures waiting to be conquered. Joke’s on him, nothing he can say or do would slow me down.

“Stop treating me like a child,” I say, feeling like a song on repeat. How many times have I told him this? Ignoring the way my heart hammers, I stare him down, waiting for him to back off. “I'm a full grown adult.”

“Of course, you are.” There’s something so... dismissive in his voice. He’s such a jerk.

“Ugh!” Frustration bubbles up in my belly. “Just—forget it.” I hate that he’s right. I’m only twenty. I still have a year to go before I can legally drown my irritation in the very drinks I order, haul around, and so carefully arrange behind the bar.

He seems to consider his response, walking around the bar and taking a glass before pouring himself some whiskey. He sips it, watching me over the rim of the glass and leaning on the bar. With a thoughtful expression, he says, “I could never forget anything about you, Em.” His words hang in the air, heavy and charged, before he pushes off the counter with a knowing look.

“Keep it up, and you'll be wearing this drink instead of sipping it,” I say, internally battling the bewildering mix of annoyance and attraction that Kade always stirs within me. With my chin held high, I leave the area behind the bar to go grab a case of vodka to refill the shelves.

Picking up the top box, I realize that I forgot how heavy the cases are. But there’s no way I’ll show weakness, especially with Kade lurking like a shadow I just can’t shake.

But here he is sailing in with that infuriating smile of his. He doesn't say a word as his hands close over mine, the heat of his touch searing my skin as he takes the heavy box from my grasp.

I tried to pull away before he can take it from me. “I've got it.” Of course, the snappy comment is more to convince myself than him.

“Sure you do,” Kade says, easily lifting the case out of my arms and placing it behind the bar as if it weighed nothing. That infuriating grin of his widens, and I wonder if he finds my irritation amusing.

“Stop smirking.” I follow him behind the bar, feeling a flush creep up my neck into my cheeks. “I don't need your help.”

“I know,” he says the two words loaded with a teasing arrogance that makes me itch to wipe that smile off his face. The closest thing to me is a bottle of grenadine, and I could open the bottle and pour the contents over his head. And what would he do about it?

He glances at the grenadine, then back at me, the amusement in his expression growing.

“Keep it up and—”

“And what?” he says, cutting me off and leaning in, his dark eyes glinting with that never-ending challenge. “You'll give me a syrup shower?”

How does he do that? “Try me,” I mutter. My hand hovers near the grenadine bottle, but I grab a mug instead, pouring myself more coffee.

“What's that? Your fifth cup?” Kade leans closer, mockingly sniffing the steam rising from the mug.

I stare at him, and he meets my gaze with that unwavering stare of his that makes my insides weak. “Making sure there's no booze in my coffee?” I ask in my most acidic tone, wishing I could burn him with words.

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