Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(57)

She sighed. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

I’d gone too far, maybe. “Do what?”

“Drive.” She held up the reins. “Will you?”

I took them back as discontent rolled off her. “Lake?”

“Were you with her last night?” she asked. “Is that why she was late this morning?”

I had no idea that was even on her mind. It really fucking shouldn’t have been. She should be thinking about campfire skits and summer reading lists and whatever else young girls thought about. “That’s between me and your sister.”

“Oh. Okay. Then don’t ask me about that guy. And his name is Corbin.”

I knew his name, but I wasn’t going to use it. I didn’t like how he kept appearing out of nowhere, how he’d set his sights on Lake but also knew Tiffany through his brother. “Did he just take you back to your cabin or what?”

“I want to get off.”

“And do what?” I asked. “Walk back?”

“It’s not that far.”

“I’m not prying, just making sure he was polite. That he didn’t, you know, try anything.”

Her breathing sped. Her heart had pounded against my back earlier. I was better than her at hiding it, but my reaction to her was the same. Physical. Powerful. Painful.

“I’m not going to let you down,” I said.

She looked over the side of the horse, as if she were thinking of jumping off. I had no business asking her what I did, making her feel sad or bad for letting Corbin walk her back like any normal teen girl would’ve done. My hands sweat around the leather reins. “Hold on,” I said.

“What?”

“Grab something. The saddle, my arms, whatever.”

Once she had the horn, I applied pressure to Betsy’s sides. She took off into a trot. “What are you doing?” Lake asked, grabbing my forearms instead.

I nudged the horse again, and she picked up her pace. “Relax.”

“You don’t even know how to ride,” she cried. “Stop.”

I steered the horse alongside the other campers, who hollered at us. One of the instructors cheered us on. He’d called Betsy wild, but he wouldn’t put us on a horse that couldn’t be controlled. We cantered to the front of the group.

Lake squirmed between my legs, her fingers digging into my skin. “Manning—please.”

“Please what, Birdy? I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

She didn’t ease her hold on me, but she relaxed her back against my front as we pulled out ahead of the group. Instinctively, I put an arm around her, holding her to me, just us, just for a second. Some strands of her hair flew into my mouth, but she was laughing again. It came from a place of pure joy. I liked that laugh so much, that carefree sound in my ears.

My world had been so dark before Lake.

It worried me how far I’d go to keep that light in my life.





17





Manning





Tiffany bounced in place, her eyes closed and her smile big. She’d pulled her hair back into a twisty-bun thing and kept everything simple with a loose sundress and little makeup. She was a natural beauty. “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

It wasn’t as if I had the world at my fingertips, just a few places where there weren’t any people. I led her away from the dining hall, where all the other counselors were hanging out, to a staff dining area off the kitchen. Gary and I had set it up earlier with a black tablecloth and a tall, white candle.

Tiffany opened her eyes when we stepped inside. “Oh my God,” she said. “This is so romantic.”

I pulled out a chair for her, then cupped my hand around the candle and lit the wick with my Zippo.

“You went through all this for me?” she asked.

I sat across from her. “You wanted me to prove it. I am.”

She studied me. “You really are old-fashioned, aren’t you? For a minute, I was worried you didn’t like me.”

“I like you.” At least, I was coming to appreciate things about her. She was adventurous and bold. No girls I knew were as unapologetic about their sexuality. And, she was beautiful. I hated myself for thinking it, but it was true. All the counselors knew it. I’d shut down some of the guys talking about her, had heard some jealous snipes from the other girls.

“I like you, too,” she said, sounding surprised. It occurred to me that she might also like other guys. I’d never had trouble getting women, but maybe I couldn’t hang on to a girl like Tiffany as long as I wanted. And then what? I’d go back to being alone, trying to keep the past at bay. Drinking, smoking, using my hands to build things for other people. It wasn’t a bad life. I slept with who I wanted. I didn’t have to watch my mouth or not light my cigs.

“Are you seeing anyone else?” I asked.

She darted her eyes over the table. “Are you?”

“Nope. Are you?” I asked again.

“Well . . . not really. I didn’t think you’d care if I did, though.”

Bucky came strolling out and made no secret about looking Tiff over. “Dinner’s about ready. I asked him what you like in your spaghetti but he didn’t know. How’s a man not know what his girl likes?”