Page 3 of Off Limits

“I saw how broken my mom was, how broken she still is. Logan can’t even bear to call. And somehow, I just feel at peace. I don’t know, maybe I’m the one who’s broken. I didn’t even cry at the funeral. I mean, I did after, but that was kind of it. I know I’m crying right now, but it’s more for feeling…guilty. That I’m not more upset. I kind of always sense it’s right there, on the cusp of breaking free, but it never really does. And the times it does, it always just feels like it’s something else.” I shake my head, looking down at my lap. “I don’t know, maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

“Shay. Shay, look at me.” I turn my face to him, his blue eyes gentle. “There isnothingwrong with you. I was here with you after the funeral. You didn’t shed a few tears. You cried, truly cried. Just because you weren’t more upset then, that you aren’t breaking down every day, doesn’t mean you’re broken. I know you miss your dad. He was a great man. And I’m sure you’ve been upset more often than you realize.”

He pauses, looking pensive. “You’re one of the most down to earth, mature, and intelligent people I have the pleasure of knowing. I think you look at the situation differently. I think you can look at it and see that your dad was suffering. That while you lost him and miss him, he’s no longer miserable. That’s not being broken, Shay. That doesn’t mean you don’t miss or didn’t love your dad.”

His words make tears pour faster from my eyes. I’m not sure if it’s what he said or missing my dad. He’s right, Idomiss my dad, every day. My dad was always the first one up in the morning, making breakfast for everybody. Every morning he said the same thing, “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It sets the tone for your entire day.”

I look up, wiping the tears and sniffling a little. Then, I break out into a small smile. “Ya know, after he died, I couldn’t eat breakfast. For weeks. I just completely skipped it. I haven’t had a real breakfast since then. I alternate between a piece of fruit, a handful of cereal, a granola bar. Anything quick and easy that doesn’t require real cooking, since I never really learned the basics.”

Glancing over at Lochlyn, I notice he’s scowling, a look usually saved for Chelsea. “That’s not healthy, Shay.”

Self-consciousness picks at my chest, making my pulse flutter. “I just can’t. For my whole life, he had always been the one to cook breakfast. By the time I get up in the morning, my mom’s already gone. Seven days a week, she’s at the store to open. She stays till close. The last day she took off was my graduation. And I’d wondered if she was even going to follow through with it.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to teach you how to make yourself some breakfast.”

I look over at him, brows furrowed. “You can cook?”

“I can, in fact.”

“Huh. Who’d have known.”

We sit in a comfortable silence for a little while longer, hands still linked as we stare into the low flames licking the charred wood.

When Lochlyn turns to me and smiles, my heart flutters as he says, “I’m full of surprises, Shay Sterling.”

Chapter 2

It’saTuesdayinearly August, and I’m sitting in the office going over some paperwork with Mom, while Chelsea’s out on the floor, and Lochlyn is unloading some boxes in the stockroom. He’s been helping out all summer and it’s very appreciated, especially since he refuses to accept Mom’s money.

“You know, I’ve always liked Lochlyn. He’s a nice boy,” Mom says as she signs some checks.

“Mom, you’veneverliked Lochlyn.” I lean forward in my chair, uncrossing my legs and resting my fingers on the desk.

“Well, that’s not true.”

“Okay, maybe you didn’t dislike him, but you also never thought very highly of him, either.” Something I never really understood.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“His tattoos? Do you not remember when he started getting them? You asked why somebody would modify their body so permanently and wondered what he was thinking.”

She waves a hand at me like I’m crazy. “Oh, nonsense. It may have just been because they were so new. I’ve known the boy since he was five. I think they suit him and who he’s grown up to be.”

I agree. Though, I’ve always liked Lochlyn’s tattoos. Felt they suited him. He looks tantalizing with them.

He’s your best friend’s brother. Nothing can happen.Deep breath.

“Well, whether you like him or not, itisnice of him to help out around here.” So nice it makes me like him even more. Which makes me war with myself, because I can’t. I shouldn’t.

“It certainly is. The Reynolds raised those two right.”

“Any chance you’ll be home for dinner tonight?” Though I know the chances are slim, and I try not to get my hopes up, I had to take this opportunity to ask. This has been one of the few, albeit short, conversations we’ve had that hasn’t been strained, or about Dad.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I have too much to do.” In reality, she doesn’t. To avoid coming home, she’ll rearrange things like folding towels that have already been folded once, straightening stacks of boxes, organizing her desk, and the list goes on. She basically stays until she’s too tired to do anything but sleep. But I understand. It’s the home she built with Dad that she’s avoiding, their dream store that she’s trying to perfect. She once told me nights are lonely without him, and it all but broke my heart all over again.

“It’s alright. I’ll just go over to Chelsea’s or something.” Like every other night. I shift in my seat and chew the inside of my lip.

“Oh, that sounds nice. I’m glad you two have been able to stay such good friends all these years.” Another swipe of her pen across the paper.

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