I understood too well that craving to hear every last thought his mind had held since I’d met him, just as long as it was about me—no one else. I wanted more about him, but so much of his life in California was made up of things I couldn’t bear to hear about. I whispered my next question, not even realizing I wanted to know. “Why didn’t you come sooner?”
“I couldn’t. It took me a year to make this trip happen.”
“And before that?”
“Parole. I couldn’t leave the state.” He looked out the window. “Your dad wasn’t able to expunge my record like I’d hoped. I think maybe he thought he could, but in the end, it was all talk.”
“And by then it was too late,” I said. “He’s such an asshole.”
He turned back to me. “He has a shitty way of going about things,” he agreed, “but he’s not a bad guy. Not really. His intentions are usually in line with mine.”
My head shot up. “You’re defending what he did? He pushed you and Tiffany together because he knew it would keep me away from you. Don’t you see that?”
“I saw it right away,” he said. “That first time he took me in his study and got me to agree to a summer wedding. I’ve spent a lot of time with him the past few years, though, Lake. You’ll be surprised to hear he and I are pretty close.”
I laid my head back down, concealing a scoff. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say any of that.”
“It bothers you?” he asked.
“Obviously. I would really rather you cut off all ties with him. Leave that dumb job and all of it behind.”
“It’s not going to be that easy,” he said. “I’ve gotta sell my half-finished house and hire a lawyer and God knows what else. Fuck.” He pulled the sheet off of us, disentangling from me.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“I need a cigarette.” Seated on the edge of the bed, he snatched his jeans off the ground and dug through the pocket. “This is the longest I’ve gone without one since I went to jail.”
I curled up on my side, watching his back as he hit the top of a pack of cigarettes on the heel of his palm. He peeled off the plastic. “Don’t,” I said. I had no handmade bracelet to offer him anymore, just a plea. “Don’t smoke.”
He glanced back at me, eyebrows drawn, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth like the day we’d met. “I won’t be long.”
“You’re leaving?” As soon as I said it, I realized why. “You still won’t smoke in front of me. I’m old enough to fuck, but not for secondhand smoke?”
He reached back and slid his hand over the curve of my hip. “Fuck, Lake? You think it’s safe to say that around me?”
From the heated look that one word got me, I figured there was a way I could get him to stay. “Every time you crave nicotine, we can fuck instead,” I said.
“You wouldn’t survive it,” he said. “I’m afraid you won’t as it is.” He pulled the sheet up over me just under my neck. “Stay warm. I’ll be ten minutes, max.” He stood to get on his jeans without even bothering with underwear.
As he started for the door, I stopped him. “Smoke here. You’ll freeze downstairs.”
“Look, Lake,” he said, turning back. “It’s not about your age or being too innocent. I don’t want to ruin your crystal-clean lungs.”
“You did it in front of Tiffany, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, so what’s that tell you about how I feel? Smoking is a part of me, and so are you. It’s not easy keeping the two separate.”
I sighed. I could see him getting frustrated, so I dropped it. “Anyway, that wasn’t what I meant. I was going to say, use the fire escape.”
He looked past the bed, out my window. The metal landing was situated halfway between my room the living room and was big enough for just a couple folding chairs and a stool. “Is Val home?” he asked.
“I doubt it. She sleeps at her boyfriend’s place almost every night.”
Manning rounded the bed, and I turned on my other side to watch him. It could take me up to a minute to work the window open, and I usually had to get Val to help, but Manning pulled it up with ease and climbed outside. He closed it almost all the way, then tilted the chair to dump snow over the edge before he sat. He took up as much space as Val and me put together, his bare feet nudging the metal edge, his head bowed to avoid hitting the frame.
I could hardly believe Manning was sitting half naked on my fire escape. He looked out over the side, frowning down to the street. He smoked faster than I remembered, taking a drag every few seconds. He had a lot on his mind. So did I. And our conversation had barely even scratched the surface. It was as if we were making up for lost time while gliding past the very real, very scary details of our situation. But this apartment felt like a safe haven from all that. I didn’t want to think about what was to come. I just wanted to live in here with Manning for as long as possible.