“Maybe, but he’s worked hard for the privilege.” Knight met his eye. “I think he only tells us because we listen and care, something his father never has.”
Lake heated. He’d never wished he could take anything back so much. “I-I’m sure he’ll shrug it off.”
“He spent our walk asking if he was too focused on work, if he came across as boring. If everyone thought the same as you.”
Lake swallowed. He’d messed up. Shown his worst side. Repulsed Knight. His eyes prickled. “I didn’t mean . . .”
Knight’s voice softened. “I know, Emerett.”
“I’ll, ah, fix it. Later.” Lake couldn’t bear the tangled emotions in his stomach a moment longer. Knight witnessing how unkind he could be . . . How that might affect the way he thought of Lake . . .
He averted his face and stumbled into the backseat.
Knight’s figure remained pressed against the window until Taylor and Amy, exiting the gift shop, stirred him, and he trudged to his car.
Taylor said nothing about the new driving arrangements, but he slung himself in the backseat beside Lake and spent a good portion of the drive frowning curiously at him. Thankfully there was no lull to admit how confused he felt. He closed his eyes on hot tears and listened to Amy chat with West.
When they arrived home, Lake jumped straight into his car and headed to the food bank.
He worked alongside a smug Philip, who determined they should put the past behind them and be friends.
The last conversation Lake could handle. His mind spiraled around the picnic at the strawberry fields, and the weight of that paper against his forehead lingered. He’d been cruel, and everything Knight had said had been fair.
He needed to apologize to Cameron, soon. Urgently and completely. Needed to work on himself. Needed to be better.
The house was dark and silent when he returned, and Lake trudged to bed, hoping he’d have the chance to apologize in the morning.
But when morning came, he found Knight dragging his suitcase through the house, following the blaring hoot of a cab horn. Knight noticed him shivering in his underwear, and ignored the impatient cab driver to grab a hoodie and throw it around Lake’s shoulders.
“I’m glad you’re up. I was hoping to have the chance to say goodbye.”
“You could have woken me.”
“Yes, well. I wasn’t sure about it.”
Oh God, Knight hadn’t forgiven him. He barely held his gaze longer than a beat.
Sorrow clogged Lake’s throat; Knight rubbed his arms, let him go, and wished him a good week.
A good week would be impossible, feeling like this.
He had to fix things.
His fiery, impulsive resignation at work came unexpectedly, but as soon as he’d finished telling his boss, he felt lighter. Relieved he’d finally done it. He left early, tried and failed to get through to Knight to tell him he’d quit, and drove to his last remaining property, the bourbon distillery.
He stabbed chopsticks into takeout, gazing at the old building and the defunct Lakewood sign. It didn’t feel as comforting as it had with Knight beside him.
He gave up on his noodles and rested his head against his hands on the steering wheel.
Five deep, calming breaths later, he nodded to himself and started the car.
He knew what to do.
“Who’s there?” Cameron’s voice was muffled.
Lake stopped rapping at the door. “You have to let me in.”
“Lake?”
“You’ve only been good to me and I was a dick. I never should have been so thoughtless. You deserve to punch me or slap me really hard. Open the door and do that, please?”
The door snicked and a puzzled, puffy-eyed Cameron in flannel pajamas stood on the other side. “Will you say all that again?”
“Yes.”
“Come on in.”
Cameron led him to the living room, where he jumped back under a blanket on the couch. Lake hesitated and perched at the other end. His stomach grew heavy at the sight of pizza, ice cream and tissues. He’d done this to Cameron.
“It’s not left my mind. It plays over and over and I can barely concentrate. I wish I could take it back. You’re one of the kindest, hardest working guys I know. You’ve always been smart, crazy smart, and I’ve always been jealous. But jealousy is stupid and unnecessary, what I really want you to take from it is how much I admire you. How much I wish I were more like you.”
“You were jealous?”
“Yes. The whole green-eyed monster thing.”
“You, jealous of me?”
“Okay, that double-dimpled grin was the last thing I expected.”’
Cameron tried and failed to control it. “Sorry, continue. You were jealous . . .”
Lake spared him a tight look that he hoped hid his bemusement. “I resented how successful you are because I hate my job—which I finally quit today—and I . . .”
“Embarrassed me?”
Lake slumped. “Yeah. So I’ve been trying to find a way to show you how sorry I am, and I hope I found it.”