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“Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?” Laney pulls me to a chair and shoves me in it.
“I have to tell you something,” I blurt, catching her off guard. She clears her throat and pulls out the chair next to me.
“I have to tell you something too.” She looks away and then down at her hands, which are fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She’s nervous. What the hell is she nervous about? I’m the one about to lay my heart out on the line. Alas, my dad always told me ladies first.
“You go first.” I scoot my chair forward until our knees are touching and she glances up at me, blinking rapidly. She wrings her hands together, her eyes searching my face.
“No.” She shakes her head adamantly. “You planned this amazing surprise. You go first.”
“No, really—” She shakes her head jerkily, dismissing me, and we both sit there . . . staring at each other. Neither one of us says a word and the air grows thick with awkward tension.
Damn it.
This is not how I wanted this to go. I wanted to tell her I loved her, hear her say it back, eat dinner and then make love to her under the stars. But really, I just want to tell her I love her . . . and hear her say it back.
Both of us, obviously disturbed by our lack of communication, start talking at the same time.
“I love you.”
“I got in!”
“What?” she gasps, her face beaming. She moves closer, which is funny because suddenly I’m wanting to move away.
“What did you say?” My stomach hardens as a wave of nausea rolls through me. My mind is working desperately to try and figure out what she’s talking about, but I’ve got nothing. “You got in?” I ask, brows furrowed. “You got in where?”
Her eyes sparkle with excitement. I want to be excited with her, but the pain I have gnawing inside my gut is telling me that this is going to change everything. Her knees are bouncing at a fast clip and she bites back a smile. “Do you remember when I applied to the CIA?”
I nod once, vaguely remembering her talking about some scholarship for the Culinary Institute of America. She never said anything else about it, so I just assumed it was a passing thought. I was wrong, obviously.
Laney loves to cook. In fact, that’s how we met. She started to waitress and hostess for my dad at Flame, and
I bartend for him on the weekends and occasionally during the week. She told me once that she wanted to be a chef and working in a restaurant was her first step in that direction. I’m not going to lie, the girl can cook. There were a few times when my dad even pulled her back to the kitchen to help out if someone called out or left sick.
“I got accepted, Levi.” She catapults forward, throwing herself into my arms, but I’m too shocked to move. What is this going to mean for us? Where is the school? I never once considered the fact that she may move. She can’t move—I love her. “Levi? Did you hear me? I got accepted!” Her eyes are gleaming, but for the life of me I can’t find the strength to smile back.
“So, what does that mean?” I manage to stutter out.
She sits up, her hands locking on mine. “It means I get to go to college. On a full scholarship. I don’t have to pay for anything, Levi.”
“But you’re in college.” I don’t see what the big deal is. What can she do there that she can’t do here? Her whole life is here. She can’t possibly think it’s a good idea to just pick up and leave. And what about Luke? She can’t leave Luke . . . she can’t leave me.
Her smile fades, the light in her eyes dulling a fraction, and she stares at me. “I’m going to a community college, Levi.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a community college,” I insist.
She shakes her head. “No, there’s not, but I’m not doing anything there. This isn’t where I want to be.” Her words are a punch to the fucking gut and I stand abruptly, sending my chair toppling backward. “Wait”—she reaches for me, but I pull away—“I didn’t mean it like that.” Slowly, she stands. “There is nothing for me here.” Another fucking punch. “My life is going nowhere, Levi . . . you know this.” Jesus Christ, screw the punch, she’s using a jagged-edge knife. I rear back at her harsh words and she hangs her head, a tear slipping down her flushed cheek.
Laney’s mother died of cancer when she was ten years old, and a few months after her passing, Laney’s dad became a raging alcoholic. Laney spent her entire childhood raising her brother. The only good thing her poor excuse for a dad ever did right was give Laney access to any money he ever had. I’m not sure where he got his money, considering he could never keep a job for longer than a few months at a time, from what Laney told me. But he got it from somewhere, and it kept food in her and Luke’s bellies and a roof over their heads.
“What about me, Laney?” I yell, jamming my finger into my chest. “What? I’m nothing to you? Your life with me won’t ever go anywhere?” My arms are held out to the sides, but she doesn’t answer. Her head snaps up and she moves forward.
“No.” Her voice is high and frantic. She looks bewildered at why I would say that. “That’s not it at all. You’re everything. You mean everything. This doesn’t mean we’re over, it just means I’m going away to school for a while.”
My eyes lock on a barge floating slowly down the river—what I wouldn’t give to drift away right along with it. “Where is it? Where is the school?”
“St. Helena . . . California.”
My eyes snap to hers. “California?” She nods and my stomach twists. “When would you leave?”
