Page 19 of Off Limits

She sucks in a breath, her gaze going out the window, that same half twist of a smile on her lips. “But,” she repeats, her voice barely more than a whisper, “you and Cal and everyone else are going to be off doing amazing things, and I’ll still be here, paralyzed by my own inability to figure out what I want to do with myself.”

I’m struck dumb by the haunting sadness of her words. I want to say something, to offer some encouragement or comfort orsomethingbecause she looks so lost and alone sitting there across from me, the evening light making her skin glow once again, but I have no idea what to say. I suck in a breath—and immediately start choking on the last few crumbs of the quiche’s crust.

Ellie’s head snaps toward me and her eyes grow wide as my own start watering from coughing so hard. She pushes my water closer to me, then hops up and starts pounding on my back, which honestly just makes me want to laugh. So I’m crying and coughing and strangling on my own laughter while this tiny little thing wails on my back like a kid at a birthday party going after a piñata. At least she doesn’t have a bat.

I finally manage to wave her off when my coughing starts to subside. “I’m fine,” I croak, reaching for my water, keenly aware that the moment from a second ago is now lost forever.

She’s still eyeing me as she returns to her seat like she’s worried I’ll start choking again at any second and her services as a back thumper will be required once more. “Thanks,” I say, holding up my hand and clearing my throat. “I’m fine. I just swallowed wrong.”

“Good,” she says. “I don’t think I could manage to do the Heimlich on you.”

Another laugh threatens to come out, once again subsumed by coughing, but the image of her trying to give me the Heimlich is just too much. This time I manage to get it all under control a lot faster, taking another sip of water and wiping my eyes with my thumbs. “Thanks. I appreciate that you’d at least try.”

She shrugs. “I learned it in a babysitting certification course. Fortunately I’ve never had to perform it on anyone. I really didn’t want you to be my first opportunity.”

“Did you babysit a lot?” That kinda explains the mom-type reaction of immediately pounding on the back of the coughing person. My mom used to do that to me as a kid if I choked on anything.

She tips her head back and forth. “For a while. I spent a summer in high school watching the two kids around the corner while their parents were at work. Little boys, six and eight. They were very high energy, so I definitely earned my money that summer.” She gives me a smile that makes me smile back, glad that she’s smiling again, though I have to wonder if that smiley energy she brings to everything is really just a front. But now’s not the time to go digging for her wounds.

“I bet. I have twin sisters. I used to watch them when they were in that age range. It was exhausting. And they always wanted to give me a makeover.”

She giggles, I’m sure picturing me with two little girls brushing my hair and putting makeup on my face. “How old are they now?”

“Ten.”

Ellie’s eyes widen. “Wow, so they’re quite a bit younger than you.”

I shrug and nod. “I was unplanned and came along shortly after my parents got married, but they were both trying to build their careers, so they didn’t want another kid right away. Then, when I was nine, I guess they decided it was time. Twins run in my dad’s side of the family, so …” I spread my hands. “About a year later, Amelia and Allison were born.”

“Those are pretty names,” Ellie says softly. She leans her chin on her fist and studies my face. “You seem like you’d be a sweet big brother.” The statement comes out wistfully, like she’s imagining what it would be like to have a sweet big brother.

“Cal wasn’t ever sweet with you?”

She raises an eyebrow and gives a derisive snort. “You’ve met my brother. You’ve seen how he acts around me. I think you can answer that question for yourself.”

“He cares about you, though,” I feel the need to insist. “You know he does.”

Shrugging, she sits up and crumples her napkin on her empty plate. “Yeah, I guess. In his own way. We were actually pretty close when we were little. But then he started playing football and got more serious, and I was just the annoying little sister, and ...” She glances up and finishes the sentence with a shrug, giving me a sunny smile that looks false, and now I’m more convinced that her sunshine isn’t as cloud-free as she’d like everyone to believe. “It is what it is, though, right? Anyway, thanks for dinner. It’s always nice to avoid the cafeteria when possible. And Autumn will be thrilled when she comes home to find a big box of cookies, so thank you for that too.” She stands and picks up her plate and cup, dumping the trash and setting the plate in a large brown plastic bin.

I follow her and do the same, frustrated with myself for ending the evening earlier than necessary by bringing up her brother. It’s good, though, I tell myself. For the best. Bringing up Cal is a good reminder for me, too. He wouldn’t like it if he found out I had an intimate dinner with his little sister in an all but empty bakery/coffee shop with an overly friendly barista looking on.

Speaking of the barista, he waves at Ellie, and she smiles—a more genuine smile than the one she just gave me—and waves back. “I’ll remind Autumn to give you a call,” she tells him.

He ducks his head, focusing on the towel in his hand. “No worries. If she calls, she calls.”

“Right. Of course,” Ellie says with a knowing smile, which fades when she turns to face me.

Without a word, she retrieves the box of cookies from our table and heads for the door. I trail behind her, wondering what, if anything, I can say to salvage this. And if I even should.

After unlocking my truck, I pull her door open for her. She looks up at me with a rueful smile touching her lips. “Thanks. Sorry.” She waves a hand at the bakery. “Cal brings out the worst in me.” She lets out a rueful chuckle. “Even when he’s not around, apparently.”

“Don’t worry about it. He brings out the worst in a lot of people.”

That makes her laugh more, and just like that, whatever tension there was between us evaporates.

And somehow, her easy acceptance of my apology only makes me want to work harder to earn it. She’s so open and forgiving that an apology and some cookies don’t seem like enough. But I’m not sure what else would be good enough, so I just return her smile and accept that she doesn’t hold a grudge.

I drive back to her dorm, knowing which one it is after dropping her off last week, and pull up in front of the door.

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