Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(5)

He gestured for me to come closer. When I was at his feet, he took my backpack off and dropped it. It landed on the ground with a thud, disturbing the sand into a cloud. “Christ. What’s in there? Rocks?”

I unzipped it to put The Grapes of Wrath away and showed him the inside. “More books.”

“Figures. You need to lighten your load, like me.” From his back pocket he pulled a paperback small enough to fit in one of his big hands.

I read the title—The Metamorphosis. “What’s that about?”

The cover had what looked like a huge cockroach on it. He studied it, his eyebrows drawn. “To be honest, I’m not sure yet. It’s weird. I’ll get back to you.”

I wrinkled my nose. Nobody I knew ever called a book weird. My English teacher and classmates were always using words like abstract, poignant, or metaphorical. It was so unheard of that I started to laugh.

Without any warning, not even a grunt or word to prepare me, he lifted me by my waist and sat me on the wall like I weighed a hundred pounds.

Well, I about did, but that wasn’t the point. He was strong, all dirt and grime, long and lean, his face and arms bronzed by the sun. He could pick me up. He could throw me if he wanted to. He could probably put me over his shoulder and walk a thousand miles without running out of breath. My urge to slide closer to him was as strong as my urge to jump down, run inside, and hide in the house where men like him only existed in my glossy magazines.

The hard brick didn’t give much of a welcome. All at once, I was an absolute and nervous mess about sitting next to a man. I didn’t think of my dad as a man, and certainly the boys I went to school with weren’t. The sun beat down on us, and he smelled of heat and sweat. It wasn’t bad.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“What’s yours?”

He wiped his palms on his jeans. “Manning.”

“Lake.”

The cigarette was back in his hands. He rolled it, flipped it around, tapped it against his knee. Everything but smoked it. “Are you trying to quit?” I asked.

“Quit what?”

“Smoking.” My feet dangled over the wall. “You look like you really want to smoke it.”

He returned it behind his ear. “Lake,” he said as if trying the word out. “And your middle name?”

That, I’d never reveal. “I hate it.”

He turned his whole body to me. “Tell me.”

“It’s ugly.”

“How can a name be ugly?”

“Trust me, it can,” I said simply. Mom liked to remind me it was a family name when I talked like that, but I didn’t care. Family or not, Dolly seemed like a babyish name, and it was no better than the stuffy-sounding Dolores from which it came.

He half-smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting. That was the first I saw of his straight, white teeth. My heart skipped. Under the dirt, the sweat, the calluses, he was handsome. I’d known it already, peripherally, as I knew the direction of the beach or the artwork hanging in my dad’s office. But now it was right in front of me—I couldn’t miss it.

His forehead creased with lines. “Careful, or it’ll come off a third time,” he said.

It took me a second to realize I’d been twisting my bracelet around my wrist.

“This time, I might not give it back,” he said.

“You’d take it to the porn shop?” It came out fast, breezily, before I could think about it. But it was probably the most brazen thing I’d ever said.

“The what?” he asked, pulling his entire upper body away.

“The . . .” I widened my eyes at his incredulous stare. “You said you’d take it to a porn shop.”

“Pawn,” he pronounced slowly. “P-a-w-n.”

I shook my head. I was still confused. “I—I don’t know what that is.”

He blew out a sigh and glanced up at the sky. “It’s a place you can take valuables for quick cash. Never mind.”

“Oh.” My embarrassment was palpable, like an anvil on my chest. The silence made it worse.

“You can go if you want,” he finally said.

Did I want to? My impulses since I’d come over here had ping-ponged between smiling and shaking and lots else. Everything felt different. Even the house they were building looked further along than it’d been yesterday. Nobody seemed to think it was weird, me sitting here with him. “Do you want me to?”

He kept his eyes forward. “You remind me of my younger sister.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have one.”

“When?”

I thought back to the conversation earlier. I’d suggested he might’ve given the bracelet to someone like a girlfriend or sister. Maybe I hadn’t said sister. I shook my head. “Never mind.”

With the squeal of tires against pavement, I checked over my shoulder. Tiffany’s BMW zoomed in our direction. I wasn’t supposed to be out here. I didn’t think Tiffany would tell Dad, but I didn’t want her to see me and come over. I also wasn’t ready to go inside.

Tiffany parked at the curb. I sucked in a breath and held it, sitting as still as possible, hoping to blend in with my surroundings. After all, Tiffany overlooked me all the time.

I should’ve known she wasn’t in the habit of overlooking attractive men.