“Lake,” he called, ducking his head to see me through the window. He’d lit a second cigarette. “It’s fucking freezing. Come warm me up.”
I couldn’t help the smile that broke over my face. My first ever invitation to be around him while he smoked. I sprung up from the bed, tugged on panties and a t-shirt, and went straight for the window.
“Uh-uh,” he said, stopping me. “Put some clothes on.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m more used to this weather than you are.”
“It’s not that.” Switching his cigarette between hands, he lifted the window with just one. “You look good enough to eat, and I don’t want anyone’s mouth watering for you but mine. Understand?”
The hair on my legs prickled as my face warmed. I understood. I didn’t want anyone else looking at him, either, but after all this time apart, I just wanted to hear him say it. “Explain it to me.”
Licking his lips, he looked me up and down. “I’ve spent years keeping my hands and thoughts to myself. I know what runs through a man’s mind when he sees someone like you. I’m going to spend my lifetime making sure anyone who crosses your path knows you’re mine. So hurry up, Birdy, I’m fucking shivering out here.”
10
Lake
Wrapped up in a blanket like a human burrito, thrilled to finally be allowed around Manning while he smoked, I maneuvered onto my fire escape. I still didn’t trust the structure, even though Val and Corbin had coaxed me onto it plenty of times. It often shook when all three of us were on it, and despite not being a religious person, I’d send a quick prayer up to the heavens.
There was hardly enough room for both of us, but since Manning could practically fit two of me on his lap, that was where I sat. Still shielding myself, I opened the blanket, tucking it between us, trying to get him in it with me. He just watched me, one arm hanging over the side of the chair, the other hand delivering his cigarette to his mouth now and then.
It wasn’t perfect, but when I was satisfied, I drew up my knees and curled into a ball against his chest. He never took his eyes from me. “You scared?” he asked.
“Do I look scared?”
“No, but this thing probably doesn’t feel any more secure to you than a Ferris wheel or a horse. Don’t worry, though. It’s strong. I won’t let you fall.”
I looked over the edge. He was right. It wasn’t so much the height that scared me, but the fact that it didn’t feel sturdy. “Val and I play TLC albums and drink wine coolers out here in the summer.”
“Yeah? Tell me more about that life.”
“What you see is all of it. Work, auditions, friends, nights on the fire escape, and until recently, school.” Flurries snowed around us, either from the sky or the landing above. “You haven’t told me anything about yours.”
“You said you don’t want to hear about it.”
“So tell me something that has nothing to do with her. Just something about you.”
“About me?” He squinted out toward some buildings and took a long drag, exhaling with a sigh. “I’ve been getting into the hard stuff, thanks to your dad.”
I widened my eyes. “He’s driven you to drink?”
He chuckled. “No. After Sunday dinner, he and I will go in his study and drink expensive liquor. He’s teaching me all about it. We talk about guns and work and sometimes even art.”
This time, I laughed. “You’re lying.”
“Nah. He likes books and so do I. You know that. Once in a while we’ll put on a mob movie, Goodfellas or something, while your mom and sister bake dessert.”
Tiffany, baking? I couldn’t picture it so I didn’t. Anyway, I was more annoyed that Manning got along with my father, who hadn’t just kept me from Manning—he’d kept Manning from me, too. How could he condone that? “What’re you reading now?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
“You,” he said, slipping his free hand under the blanket. “I’m a blind man feeling his way around the story.” He tiptoed his fingers up my bare thigh. “Deaf, hearing a melody for the first time. A fool suffering to understand Tolstoy’s Russian.”
“You are a poet,” I said, my mouth dry. I’d trade all the letters I’d longed for from him and never received for the love story he now recited through smoke and snowfall.
“Here’s something you don’t know about me,” he said. “After I said my vows and walked down the aisle, I turned and looked at you, and you were in Corbin’s arms, crying.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. If he was trying to say he was jealous, he probably deserved a punch in the face for it. “You should be grateful someone was there for me,” I said. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.”