Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(55)

I had nowhere to put my hands. “I do, one day.”

“You’re still a kid yourself.”

“Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I’m a kid.” I wrapped my arms around him again, this time pulling myself forward until we were snug, hardly any space left between us. “And I’m getting older every day.”

He straightened up, and I rested my cheek against his back, closing my eyes, inhaling the scent of the pine trees around us. We rocked together with the steady bump-and-grind of the horse’s hooves on the dirt path. The fresh morning air kept me cool, even while my body warmed where we touched. My jeans caught on his, but his t-shirt was soft under my bare arms. Based on what I’d heard from kids at school, this was the way I imagined it felt to be drunk or high, to reach a level of happiness and bliss that could only be achieved with help. Arms, chest, cheek. My entire self pressed against Manning’s solid body—that was my drug of choice.

Was sixteen too young to fall in love? I might’ve thought so before Manning. Could he love me back, a man seven years older? I was sure if he did, he’d never admit it. But I would wait for him. Even I understood that for a while, ours ages mattered. There was no right now for us. Eighteen was a lifetime away. That was two more whole school years, another long summer. It was millions of breaths that would inevitably catch in my throat around him and thousands of pages read across so many books and hundreds of long, sun-soaked California days. But the wait would be, without a doubt, worth it.

The horse slowed. I opened my eyes but didn’t lift my head. We were at the lake now. A couple cabins were canoeing. Because she was as familiar to me as my own reflection, but also because she was yelling across the water at some of her girls, my gaze went straight to Tiffany.

Her canoe rocked, and for a second, I thought she might fall in. She grabbed the edges, steadied herself, and sat. Her campers pointed at the parade of horses, waving to us. Tiffany shielded her eyes.

I turned my head away, resting my other cheek against Manning’s back as I tightened my hold on him. Tiffany didn’t know what she had, what she could have.

As much as it frustrated me, I was thankful for that.





16





Manning





Lake carried a bucket of water that looked half her size. She put it down in front of Betsy and with a tentative hand, stroked her nose. We were only halfway through the ride, and she was already overcoming her fear. It was what I wanted, except that when Betsy whinnied and Lake jumped back and looked at me, a part of me liked that. I craved that feeling of being needed again, of being held onto when she was scared. A hint of fear was good. It would keep her alert.

The air up here was crisp. I could practically feel it move through my lungs. I wished my fears were as easily overcome, but I was fucked any way I turned. Lake was important to me in a way she shouldn’t be. Her naiveté about some things made me overprotective. Then, once in a while her girlish mannerisms or expressions reminded me of things Maddy did I’d forgotten about, like how she blinked a lot when processing something new. It drew me in. On a primal level, I wanted to keep bad things from happening to her. Was it more than that? I didn’t want to know the answer. In some ways, she was still sweet and open. In others, Lake was more mature than people my own age. She wanted to understand things rather than accept them as they were. She took an interest in me nobody else had in a long time, grilling me about the smoking, asking why I wanted to be a cop. Trusting me when she had no reason to.

Lake returned to my side. She’d barely spent any time with Hannah or her girls since we’d left the stables. She was here to experience camp, not me. But I was greedy. When she looked up at me with her huge eyes, waiting for my direction, I knew peripherally that I was in too deep. I needed to pull back. But that look reminded me someone might depend on me again one day, and if things were different, Lake could’ve been that someone.

She was still standing there. Even if I pushed my heels into my eye sockets and forced her image away, she’d still be here. Looking up at me. Waiting.

“Why don’t you go check on the girls?” I asked.

“I did. The boys, too. After I gave the horse water.”

Time passed in a funny way around her. Maybe she had talked to the campers. Maybe she’d spent time with Hannah. I’d been the one standing in the same spot, watching her. Time could be slow like that with her, and then sometimes it went by in flashes. Sometimes I just wanted it to stop and others, I wished it’d go by faster.

“We should head back,” she said. “There’s a group after us.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the altitude or what. My head wasn’t clear. All I could think was that I’d spent twenty-four hours on a lake, underneath clear, endless skies, and yet I’d still never seen a blue the shade of her eyes. I was sure the image of her looking up at me this way would be burned into my brain for as long as I walked this Earth.

“Manning?”

“Yeah.” I tore my gaze away. “Get on.”

“I want to drive.”

Half an hour ago, she could barely bring herself to get near the horse. Maybe she didn’t need me after all. “By yourself?”

“No, with you.”

I nodded. “You get on first.”

“Will you help?”