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She smiled. “How would he know? Unless he’s watching with binoculars, the pervert.”
“I told you.” I had to force the words out while my angry cock throbbed. “I like to take it slow.”
She sighed, softening against my chest. “I guess. But this is super slow.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked with a grunt. Here was a girl who had what men wanted and actually knew it. Why give it up so fast? “You should be the one making me wait.”
She moved away from me. “What do you mean?”
“You know what you’re worth.” The only sound was her breathing. “It’ll happen,” I said. “Just be patient.”
She didn’t respond right away. What she was thinking about, I had no idea. “Okay,” she said finally. “We can stay slow for a while.”
“Good.” I took her hand again and led her to her cabin. “See you in the morning. Seven o’clock sharp, all right? I don’t want to see you on cleaning duty again.”
She wandered away, a little dazed, while I wondered why pointing out her worth had only seemed to confuse her.
18
Lake
For the second night in a row, Manning didn’t come to the dining hall after lights-out. Tiffany did—at least that meant she wasn’t with him. With Manning away, boys had been approaching her all night like bees with honey or moths to a flame. That’s what Tiffany was to them, whether they knew it or not. A honeyed-flame. One poor guy had been circling for an hour, working up the nerve to talk to her. Tiffany didn’t even notice him.
Tiffany, Hannah, and I sat in a circle on the floor with a few other counselors. Tiffany crossed her legs under her. “I don’t remember half these guys from high school. It’s like they haven’t seen a girl in months.”
“They probably spent four years thinking they’d never get a chance to talk to you,” Hannah said.
“Most of them are geeks.” She scrunched her nose. “I guess that can be sexy.”
I glanced around to make sure none of them were within hearing distance, then changed the subject. “How was last night?”
She checked her makeup in her compact. “Last night?”
“Your date.”
“Oh.” She snapped the mirror shut. “So good. So so good.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “Really?”
“Not even in a sexual way. Manning just made me realize I’ve been dating boys all this time when there are men out there.”
“How?” It came out as a whisper, so I cleared my throat. “What did he do?”
“He arranged this dinner just for me. We had a great talk, where he opened up so much.”
“About what?”
“Our relationship and stuff.” She shook her head. “His sister died.”
It came out fast, like an afterthought or an unwarranted slap across the face. I couldn’t believe he’d shared that with her after I’d asked about his family and he’d said he didn’t talk about it. With anyone. Not even me. He’d given Tiffany this intimate piece of himself and me nothing.
When the shock wore off, it hit me. He’d had a little sister. And she was gone. His gentleness with me, at times, could be almost brotherly, the way he didn’t smoke or curse in my presence. I couldn’t deny the attraction between us, but it made more sense, his sadness, his intensity, if he was a big brother without a little sister.
“Then he walked me back to my cabin,” Tiffany continued. “He never acts like I owe him anything. He was a gentleman, you know?”
That sounded like Manning to me. A gentleman, someone who’d never push me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. I wanted that for Tiffany, to be treated well, but not enough to give her Manning.
“Can you be more specific?” I asked.
“He was trying to be polite at first . . .”
At first. At first? “Then what?”
“Here’s a lesson you’re going to learn sooner or later, Lake, so it might as well be sooner. Men’s brains turn to mush with a little physical contact.”
My chest rattled with each breath, caving in on itself. I didn’t even know enough about men to understand if getting physical could mean just a kiss or if it was always more. What I wouldn’t give for a dinner date with Manning. And then to be alone with him afterward, to have our first kiss in the quiet dark under pine trees.
“I’m starting to like this place,” she said. “It’s romantic.”
I didn’t get a chance to ask for details. The boy who’d been pacing around like a predator finally pounced. “Tiffany, right?” he asked. “We went—”
“High school?” she asked.
His face lit up as he wrung his hands. He was definitely more prey than predator. “Yeah! You remember. Armando Diaz.”
If Manning wasn’t coming, I didn’t want to be here. “You can sit here, Armando,” I said, standing.
He took my spot without a glance in my direction. “Thanks.”
