Page 63 of Off Limits

“You did notlether. Chelsea is always going to do whatever she’s going to do. Nobody’s going to stop her. You, ofallpeople, should know that. It is absolutely, in no way, your fault. If you want to blame somebody, blame your parents. I mean, where the hell are they? I haven’t seen them in weeks.” Anger is rising like hot lava in my body and my voice. My poor, sweet, overly caring man is sitting here blaming himself for something his parents should have been on top of.

“They typically book their trips a year in advance now. They expected Chelsea to be at Cornell.”

I can’t help the eye roll and lava continuing to rise in me. His parents just choose to be gone. They should change their plans for their child.

“Regardless, it’s not your fault.” I run my fingers through his hair as I try to calm him.

“Why are you telling me instead of her?” He pulls his face back to look at me, but his eyes aren’t focusing on mine, looking down at my lips instead.

“She asked me to. She thought you’d take it better from me. I’m worried she’s seeing a shift in our relationship. Though, she did say you’ve always taken things better from me.”

“You’re calmer. The calm in the storm.”

A smile pulls my lips up. “She said the same thing.”

His arms tighten around me as he tilts his head to kiss my jaw. “Do you have to leave now that she’s home?”

“Nope. You’re sleeping 'on the floor' tonight.” I use my fingers for air quotes to emphasize the statement.

“You’re shitting me.” He’s completely baffled.

“I told her I wanted to stay, in case she needs me. That I’d sleep in your room and make sure you slept on the floor. I almost tried to convince her that the bed is big enough that we can easily sleep in it together andnotbe touching, but I figured it’s too risky.”

“You’re amazing. I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“Oh no, you’re definitely not.”

He starts kissing along my jaw, down my neck, and across my shoulders. “How far do you think we can push it?”

“Not far enough,” I moan. While we’ve had sex with Chelsea in the house before, on more than one occasion, this time, I don’t trust her to not wake up, seeking a hug or a pint of ice cream.

Taking my chin in his fingers, Lochlyn turns my face to his as his mouth presses over mine, tongue barging in. My hand wraps to the back of his neck as I turn to face him more. His hand slides to my ear, fingers tangling in my hair.

I know we’re taking a huge risk, that Chelsea could walk down the stairs at any moment, but I don’t care. It had been six long weeks and one fight since I’d been with Lochlyn before two nights ago. I need him like I need oxygen.

Pulling away far too soon, he rests his forehead against mine, brushing his knuckles down my cheek. “We should get dinner. What would Chelsea want?”

“Pizza,” we say in unison, laughing. I’m convinced Chelsea would eat pizza for every single meal.

We wait for dinner on the couch, watching TV, kissing a lot, and jumping apart at any sound we hear. When the doorbell rings, I nearly shriek.

We check on Chelsea together, tiptoeing into her dark room.

“Chels,” I try in a low voice.

Sniffle.

Lochlyn and I frown as we look at each other. I sit near her head while Lochlyn sits near the foot of her bed. “Chels, we ordered pizza,” I try gently.

She flips over and wraps her arms around my shoulders, crying. When I glance at Lochlyn, I see anger and hurt pull at his features. Instead of reacting to the anger and leaving to find Brendan, which I have no doubt he wants to do, he reaches out and rubs Chelsea’s back.

“Chels, let’s eat. You’ll feel better after you have some food.” There’s strain in his voice. It’s different than the one he gets with me. This is one I’ve heard over the years and that I always associate with how much he cares for his sister, how much he wants to protect her from every bad aspect of life.

Lochlyn’s right, pizza does help her feel better. We let her pick a show to watch after we eat, which neither one of us like, but it makes her happy, so it makes us happy. Sitting next to him on the couch and not leaning into him takes a lot of focus and self-restraint, so it’s good the show isn’t captivating me.

When Chelsea goes up to bed early at nine instead of ten, we take full advantage. Once she’s upstairs, Lochlyn pulls my legs over his lap and slides his hand up my thigh as he leans over me. The second we hear her door close, his lips lock on mine as he leans me backward onto the couch, readjusting my legs so they wrap around his waist.

We stay like that until my lips are swollen, and my chin is raw from his stubble.

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