Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(54)

He scratched his chin. “I didn’t think this through. You might need to get off so I can get on first. Can you do it?”

If it meant I wouldn’t have to be in charge of this thing, then yes. He helped me down, hoisted himself onto the horse, and jerked his head for me to get on again. Tentatively, I put my foot in the stirrup again. I had no way of pulling myself up, so Manning offered his elbow. I used it to slide onto the saddle behind him.

“See?” he said. “You’re a natural. “Ready?”

But now, what was I supposed to do with my hands? His nearness robbed me of everything from sense to speech. His camp t-shirt, still creased, smelled like plastic and a hint of sweat.

“You might want to hold on,” he said.

There was only one way to hold on. He was asking me to put my arms around him—just like that? As if it wasn’t something I’d dreamed of a hundred times? It was impossible that he wouldn’t instantly know the depth of my feelings just by this simple hug. He’d feel the pounding of my heart against his back. My hairline began to sweat. I ached to do it, but I seriously couldn’t bring myself to move an inch. I was scared stiff.

“I’m okay,” I said.

“Suit yourself.” Manning clucked his tongue, squeezed Betsy’s sides with his feet, and she jolted forward. I seized onto his t-shirt to keep from falling. He pulled back on the reins, laughing. “Whoa, Betsy. Whoa,” he said. She steadied into a walk. “It might take a few tries.”

My hands might as well be on him now. I had the fabric of his shirt in two fists, and if I released it, I might fall. Probably. It was likely. I didn’t want to fall. I didn’t want to let go of Manning when I finally had him. I eased my grip and slowly, with appreciation for every detail, slid my arms around his middle. I clasped my hands together and scooted closer, my inner thighs pressing against his legs. My pulse beat everywhere, especially the places we touched. And I felt his, too. I couldn’t tell if the fast, rhythmic ba-boom against my palms was just the robust heartbeat of a healthy man or if he was feeling as euphoric and turned on and nervous as I was.

As everyone started down the path, Manning and I pulled up the rear while one handler took the lead. Hannah and the other instructor rode alongside the kids.

Manning cleared his throat and asked over his shoulder, “Are you comfortable?”

My chest was mashed against him, my butt awkwardly pushed out to keep just a little distance between us so he wouldn’t think I was trying to get too cozy. Worst of all, I couldn’t see over him since he was so tall, and I didn’t know where to put my face. It didn’t matter. I sighed. “Yes.”

“Did you fall off a horse as a kid or something?”

“No. I never even got on one.”

“So this is like the Ferris wheel?” he asked. “It’s not really a height thing.”

“No. My friend had a treehouse growing up and I went in there sometimes. I get on the roof at home.”

“The roof?”

“From my room. I can climb out the window.”

“Hmm.” His hum vibrated my body. “So it must be things that move. Not being able to control what could happen. Have you ever been on a plane?”

Those were worst of all. Talk about having no control. You could die a million different ways on a plane and most of it wouldn’t be instant. If it started to fall out of the sky, you’d have to sit there, knowing you were going to die. Just waiting. I shuddered. “I had to as a kid when we took vacations. I didn’t have a choice. I think I cried through my entire first flight and after that, my parents just gave me something.”

“That surprises me,” he said. “I know you’re brave.”

Me, brave? I wasn’t so sure. “Why do you think that?”

“Just little things. Like when we went to that party before the fair, and Tiffany pressured you to go in. You said no when most teenagers would’ve done the opposite.”

“That wasn’t bravery,” I said. “I just don’t like those things—drinking, flirting, acting stupid because they think it’s cute or funny.”

“A lot of people don’t like those things, but they do them anyway. Because people make them think it’s cool. They back down. They’re the cowards.” Manning placed his hand over mine as I held onto his stomach. My throat went dry, my body tingling in places I didn’t know could tingle. “Take the reins a minute,” he said.

“I can’t even see.” That was a lie. I saw Manning, and Manning was all I saw.

“You don’t need to, because I can.” He removed my hand to place a rein in it, then did the same with the other. “There you go. You’re a pro.”

I wasn’t doing a single thing but holding the reins. He could’ve been steering me into the lake, and I’d have no idea. For some reason, it was important to him that I do this on my own.

“Hey, Jake,” Manning called out. “Mike. Stop screwing around. This isn’t a videogame. These are real animals.”

“Sorry, Manning,” a couple boys said.

“You’re good with them. I can tell they look up to you.” My back started to ache from keeping some distance between us. “Do you want kids?”

He took the reins again. “Not really. No. Not right now.”