Move the Stars (Something in the Way 3)

Up until this morning, all that had been an impossible fantasy. Maybe she’d thought our conversation in her apartment was the end of this, that I’d stay in New York this week and not see her again, but it wasn’t. All it’d done was make me realize that before I could even think of kissing her, I needed to earn her trust again. I needed to tell her what she still meant to me.

But as long as Corbin was around, I had a problem on my hands.

The hostess led us past a Christmas tree with winking multi-colored lights and tables of crayon-wielding kids to a blue vinyl booth. Corbin gestured for Lake to sit first. I would’ve had to push him aside to be next to her, so I was forced to take the seat across them.

I’d barely glanced at the menu before a waitress approached. “Morning, you two,” she said to them. “Want the usual?”

“Yeah, but bring Lake a Coke and hash browns, too.” Corbin passed the waitress his menu and his eyes over me. “She likes that when she’s hungover.”

“Corbin, don’t,” she said quickly. “I’m not hungover. I barely drank anything last night.”

She didn’t want me to think she had, anyway. I didn’t like hearing about it, either. I couldn’t really pretend she didn’t do those things—she had a new life here. She’d grown up. We were both different, but deep down, wasn’t she still the Lake I knew? Wasn’t I still the same man? Without that, who were we? While I looked forward to learning more about the girl sitting across from me, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to the one I’d known just yet.

“So no hangover remedy?” the waitress asked.

Lake flicked her nail on the edge of her menu, biting her lip. “You can bring the hash browns.”

The waitress knew them, and Corbin knew Lake. What she liked to eat, at least, but I could learn that. Knowing mundane details wasn’t anything compared to reading her the way I did—it didn’t rival how she anticipated what I needed and when. Maybe Corbin thought he knew her, maybe she thought he did, but not like me.

I could’ve sat and watched Lake all day, but the waitress cleared her throat at me. “Do you need another minute?”

Lake took my menu away and gave it to the waitress. “He’ll have the number one. Add avocado.” As she said it, she avoided my eyes, color high in her cheeks. Well, that was all the evidence I needed. Food was an expression of her love. Ever since the day we’d met and she’d made me a monster sandwich, she’d liked to feed me, to watch me eat, to be the reason I was content.

Corbin leaned back in the booth, stretching his arm behind Lake. “How’s Tiffany?” he asked.

Reality cut through my adulation. If I could’ve, I’d have asked Corbin to leave. I wouldn’t put it past him to tell Tiffany he’d found me in Lake’s apartment, though. I didn’t want her to find out that way. Until I got my shit sorted, I’d have to play nice. “She’s fine.”

“And the family? Charles? Cathy?”

“Everyone’s good,” I said, trying to keep the irritation from my voice. “You know that. You were over for Thanksgiving.”

Lake turned in the seat to gape at him. “What?”

“I only stopped by to say hi,” he said to her. “They miss you. They want to know about you.”

Cathy was the only one who’d admit it. Lake’s dad went beet red at the mention of her name, and Tiffany had never been good at expressing her emotions, so she usually clammed up when it came to Lake. That didn’t mean they didn’t miss her, though. I knew they did.

“How could you not tell me?” Lake asked.

“I knew you’d freak, and I was only there ten minutes.”

That was true. Since I’d already booked my trip to New York, and Tiffany had been acting strange about that, I’d disappeared to the backyard during Corbin’s visit. I didn’t want anyone thinking I cared to hear about Lake or the New York trip would be off for good. But after he’d left, all Cathy could talk about was how she’d had a feeling Lake and Corbin might be getting serious.

And if I hadn’t already had my plane ticket, that would’ve been enough to get me to buy one.

How serious was it, though? The waitress filled our coffee cups. Lake added a splash of cream and Corbin handed her two packets of sugar. The morning after her prom, four and a half years earlier, she’d wanted to drink coffee just because I did. Now, she looked like a regular caffeinator. While I ached for the old Lake, it was as if I were meeting a new side of her, and that was something I’d never thought I’d get.