Page 21 of Totally Off Limits

Of course, hers wasn’t either, but for entirely different reasons.

Still,today, she could acknowledge it. “I’m so sorry, Mickey.”

“What for?”

“I just…feel like I should have done something back then.”

“Youdid, Sierra.”

“I…” The question lodged in her throat as she searched his dark eyes where the answer lay.

“You didn’t forget, did you? That time back in school when you shared your lunch with me.”

Yes, she remembered. “Was that second grade?”

“Third. My dad…he was between jobs. We had some food, but I didn’t finish my chores, so he drove me to school without lunch and said I’d learn to focus on getting work done if I had to suffer for it.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t the first time you’d gone to school without lunch.”

His eyes told her she’d recalled correctly. “I wasn’t going to say anything to anybody at school. I didn’t want the attention. But when you came over and sat by me, asking if I wanted to share your sandwich…you were like fucking Mother Theresa.” He closed his eyes for a second. “Sorry.” Looking past Sierra, he said, “Sorry, Mia. Don’t listen to me.”

Mia was grinning, bits of cheesecake on her cheeks where she’d missed the mark. “I listen to you.”

Mickey smiled back at her, continuing to talk to Sierra while still looking at her daughter. “You said you never ate all your food anyway.”

“And I hated sandwiches. It didn’t matter what kind of meat my mother put in them.”

“You shared more than your sandwich that day. You also had an orange and potato chips. Carrot sticks. Cookies.”

“All that? You remember that?”

“Yeah. The kids kind of shunned you back then, too, didn’t they?”

God. That was something Sierra hadn’t pondered in years, but he was right. It was for entirely different reasons, though. It was partly because she didn’t eat cafeteria food. It wasn’t that her family couldn’t afford it. It was because the school offered inferior food, according to her mother. The woman didn’t understand that it was about more than the food.

It was about belonging.

“Sometimes.”

And after the day Sierra had shared her food with Mickey, it wasn’t like they’d become friends. But there was a mutual respect for one another. That day had been near the end of the school year, but Sierra didn’t share an actual classroom with Mickey until middle school, when they had the occasional class together.

“You were the one kid never afraid to look me in the eyes.”

“What about Sage?”

“We didn’t meet till middle school—but you’re right. Me and Sage loved the same things, even though our backgrounds couldn’t have been more different. And in middle school, he didn’t have all that historical knowledge about me that other kids who went to our elementary school did. Probably because his family had just moved to Winchester.” Setting down his fork, he said, “And don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did for me in high school.”

She hadn’t…because that was the moment she’d actually started to fall for him. Just a little bit.

“Well,” Sierra said, taking a napkin and wiping food off Mia’s face as best she could, “I’m no saint, Mickey.”

“Maybe you don’t think so. But Iknowbetter.”

Sierra glanced over at him and, for just one moment, she could see herself through his eyes. But he was wrong. She’d simply shown him kindness when they were kids. On a different day, she might have treated him differently. She might have looked away like she had before.

That didn’t make her a saint. Not by a long shot. And while Mickey could think what he wanted, she knew the cold, hard truth.

If she were such a fucking saint…she’d tell him the truth, the whole truth.

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