Page 4 of Off Limits
She rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the drive, Daddy,” she says cutely, lacing her fingers under her chin to ham it up and making me chuckle.
“Good girl. Have a good day, sweetheart.”
She blows me a kiss and gets out of the car, and I frown as I pull away from the curb, my heart full of love and concern. I’d almost forgotten how much love can make your heart ache; how tender this kind of love can be.
She’s not a child anymore, I remind myself. She spent five weeks fending for herself, and she’ll be turning eighteen soon. But it’s hard to think of her as a grown woman…even if my body has undeniably noticed.
Danica
AT 3:29 p.m. on the dot, Jean-Luc’s champagne-coloured Jaguar pulls up out front of the school, as expected. Swiss by birth, and Type A by nature, Jean-Luc is never late.
“Give me a sec,” I say to Kye.
“Sure, babe.” Our high school’s champion point guard and most eligible bachelor gives me a slow, overly-confident smile as I get up from the school steps, like he has no doubt I’ll be running right back to him. Kye Knight does not suffer from low self-esteem.
I open the car door and lean in. “Hey, Jean-Luc—Dad,” I quickly correct myself. “If it’s okay with you, my friend Kye is going to drive me home.”
I’ve known Jean-Luc for so long that I sometimes forget people find him intimidating. Looking at him now in his perfectly tailored suit, leaning back in the cream leather interior of his car and frowning at me, I’m suddenly reminded. He lifts one dark, heavy eyebrow without a hint of a smile on his face, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “That’s not okay with me.”
“What? Why not?”
“For a few reasons, Danica. Because I came here to pick you up, because I have no idea who Kye is, and because we need to get home. The social worker will be there in an hour.”
All at once, he really does feel like my dad again. Dear old Dad. We’re right back to old times. My teeth grit against each other as I try to swallow my exasperation.
I love my dad, I remind myself. He came to get me after my mom abandoned me. He cares for and loves me. He wants what’s best for me.
“It’s just a drive home,” I huff, trying not to roll my eyes. I don’t see what difference it makes whether it’s him or Kye that drives me. Either way, it’s the same distance, and Jean-Luc works near here anyway. It’s not like he went out of his way.
He blows out a breath, frowning. “I left the office early to come get you, Danica. Tell your…friend you’ll see him in class.”
He’s pissed, and I can tell I’m not going to win this argument. I don’t want to fight. I’m still so grateful to Jean-Luc for being there for me. But I can’t hide the irritation in my voice.
“Fine,” I grumble, turning on my heel and leaving the car door wide open just because I know it will irritate him. I stalk over to the school steps and pick up my knapsack.
I try to compose my face before speaking to Kye, embarrassed that he might be witnessing me being treated like a child.
“Sorry, Kye,” I say casually, my cheeks warming. “I forgot I have an appointment my dad needs to take me to.”
“No problem.” He shrugs, letting his eyes wander down my body before lifting them back up to my eyes. “See you tomorrow.”
I press my lips together as I turn back to the car.
Kye Knight. He’s the hottest guy at my school. Right before my mom took off, Kye and I made out at a party, and we texted for a little while after. I can’t blame him for letting the communication drop off—I became unavailable real fast as soon as I started grappling with the fact that I had basically no food or money. But I’d been hoping we could reconnect. His offer to drive me home today was my chance. Now that I’ve turned him down, I’m sure he’ll give up on me.
I get into the car and slam the door shut. I know I should tone down the drama, but I can’t help but feel like my stepfather has completely cock-blocked me.
He pulls away from the curb and drives out of the school grounds without saying anything for a few minutes.
“So who’s Kye?” he finally asks, turning left onto the 99 with one smooth sweep of his well-manicured hand around the steering wheel. It’s a strange thing to notice, but he has nice hands, I think. Well-proportioned and strong-looking, with clean, trim nails, and the giant silver watch he always wears around his wrist.
I’m not sure how to answer, and I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks that I hope he doesn’t notice. “Just a friend,” I say, quietly and unconvincingly. He looks over at me and raises an eyebrow, like he’s not falling for it. “Just someone I…” I falter and shake my head. “I don’t know, Dad. Just a guy.”
“Just a guy, hm?” He fixes his eyes on the road, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And how long has Kye been…just a guy in your life for?”
Yup, okay. Now I am officially embarrassed.
“It’s not a thing, honest,” I say quickly. My foot starts tapping nervously of its own accord. “We just, um…we just kissed once, and now we’re friends.”