Page 11 of Off Limits

She waves me away, much like she did when she was talking to Lochlyn. “He likes to act like he’s not a manwhore.”

“I mean, is he, though? Do you guys actually talk about that?”

“You’ve heard the things people say about him, Shay.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard what other people say but not from him or anybody who actually knows him. Very different.” A part of me is wondering why I’m pushing. If she does have confirmation, do I want to hear it?

“Why do you care?” There’s a heavy undercurrent of irritation in her words.

“I don’t. I just feel like he was frustrated with you. I’m trying to avoid you guys getting in a fight. Again.” A partial truth is acceptable in this situation, but to avoid any chance of her noticing something off, I pick at the tablecloth on the table next to us.

“We fight, we make up, we fight again. He’s a pain in my ass, but I love him.”

“Funny, I’m pretty sure he’d say the same thing about you.” I tip my head sideways and kick gently at her foot.

“Yes, but I’m the baby. It’s my job to be a pain in the ass.”

“So, what’s your excuse with me?”

She bumps her shoulder into mine as we both burst into giggles.

Dinner’s a delicious affair. Which makes sense because the Reynolds hired a personal chef for the night. I’m not sure exactly how much money they have; I’ve never asked as it’s none of my business, buta lotdoesn’t seem to quite cover it.

It was part of what threw me when Lochlyn told me he cooks. I know he and Chelsea eat real food while their parents are gone, but I’ve always just assumed they hire somebody to cook for them. Chelsea’s parents have set up a meal company to deliver meals while they’re away. And I’ve never actually seen Lochlyn cook, despite how frequently I’m at their house.

As we sit around the table sipping our coffees, bellies full, I keep catching Lochlyn’s eye. I try not to look at him too often, but I can’t help it. The thing that confuses me is that many times he’ll look up at me, too, and I’ll notice a smirk on his face as he watches me flush.

“Shay, honey, I’m leaving now.” Mom’s whisper startles me. I had been lost in a trance, holding Lochlyn’s gaze, not sure what exactly is going on as he has a gentle smile on his face.

Tearing my eyes from him, I turn to Mom. “Oh, alright. You sure?”

“Yeah, I have to be up early to open the store in the morning.”

“Okay. Do you want me to come with you?”Please say no, please say no.

“Oh no, you stay. Have fun with Chelsea.”

“Alright. I’ll be home later.”

“Take your time, no rush. Just let me know if you decide to stay the night.”

“I will.”

She gives me a tight-lipped smile and walks away to say goodbye to the Reynolds. I glance around for a clock, wondering what time it is. How have I never taken note of the location of clocks? We had gotten to their house around three. I’m curious how many hours Mom had actually put in. Before we left, I begged her to just tough it out and put on a brave face.

Lochlyn’s watch lands with a thud in front of me. Since he first started wearing it five years ago, I’ve never seen him take it off, not even to swim. I’m pretty sure he even sleeps in it. As I turn it over in my hands, I notice its weight for the first time. It’s a quarter to seven. She made it almost four hours.

Standing and leaning across the table, I hand Lochlyn his watch. “Thank you.” A shock shoots from my fingertips through my body as his fingers graze mine.

“You’re welcome.”

My offer to help clean up is denied. “We have people for that, dear,” Mrs. Reynolds responds. In all my years of knowing the family, I’ve always continued to call her Mrs. Reynolds; it’s never felt right to call her Veronica.

I’ve never been sure why they stayed in our neighborhood. It’s definitely very middle class. Even though they had become upper middle class, if not upper class. When they bought the house, Mr. Reynolds had yet to really break out in his law firm. Since then, he’d become a partner and as his status and reputation climbed, along with his income. He had quickly become a valued employee, paving the way for him to be more of a figurehead than actual practicing attorney by the time Lochlyn turned sixteen.

But it also allowed for him to have a position ready and waiting for Lochlyn as soon as he finished school. Lochlyn’s future was determined for him. There was no wiggle room. I’d been hearing about “the plan” for as long as I could remember. It wasn’t until that day in the stockroom I learned that Lochlyn isn’t for it.

The grades have always come easy to him. He scored a fifteen fifty on his SATs. By his guidance counselor’s insistence, he applied to Harvard, Yale, Columbia, and Stanford in addition to Cornell. He got into all of them.

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