Move the Stars (Something in the Way 3)

“I like watching you do it,” he said, pinching the butt of the cigarette, amusement in his eyes.

“If you won’t make one, I’ll have to think of another way to get you over here.” I balled up some snow, packing it tightly while he raised his eyebrows at me—a warning I intended to ignore. When he didn’t make a move, I threw the snowball at him, narrowly missing his shoulder.

He didn’t even flinch. “Have to work on your aim,” he said, winking.

“Fine. You win.” I stood, bending at the waist, brushing snow off my pants. I pretended to fix my socks while stealthily forming more ammunition. Peeking to make sure he wasn’t looking, I straightened up, much better poised to hit him. I launched the snowball and it smacked against his chest so hard, his cigarette fell from his mouth onto the sidewalk.

I stifled a laugh at the way his nostrils flared. We stared at each other a few tense seconds before we both broke into a run. Halfway down the block, he caught me by the waist and lifted me into the air. Even as I gave in to a fit of laughter, I struggled against him, making it as hard as I could for him to carry me.

Right before the entrance to the W, he tossed me into another pile of snow and fell down beside me. “Just to be clear, this doesn’t mean you win,” he said, spreading out on his back like he had that night at the pool in Big Bear. I scooted over to make space for his impressive wingspan. Manning made what had to be the largest snow angel in history, then held his hand palm up for me. I took it, letting him pull me over to him.

I rolled onto my stomach, resting my chin on his broad chest. Before Serious Manning could ruin the moment, I asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

“That’s easy. Blue.”

“I should’ve guessed,” I said. “All boys like blue.”

“Not the shade I’m thinking of. It’s more of a baby blue, or turquoise water—”

“The ocean. Why?” I asked. “Is that your favorite place in the world?”

“Nah.”

“Where would you be if you could be anywhere?”

“Where would you be?”

My instinct was to say the beach—it was my home, or it had been once. Was I even that girl anymore, though? Wasn’t it normal for tastes to change over the years? “Here, I guess.”

“Don’t sound so sure,” he teased, reaching up to brush sleet from my hair. “It’s okay if it isn’t New York, Lake.”

“Why wouldn’t it be? My friends are here. I’m building a career. I even have a hairdresser I like.” I pursed my lips. “I’ve made a life here.”

“But it’s not like you left Southern California because you didn’t like it there. If New York felt like the only option . . .”

I wanted to argue just to prove him wrong, but the truth was, I sometimes felt out of place in the city. I’d grown up playing barefoot in sand and salt water, with the sun turning my gold hair white. Not that I didn’t love it here, but I sometimes wondered if the city would ever feel like my true home. “What about the mountains?” I asked. “I’ve never seen you as happy as you were in Big Bear. Is that where you want to be, somewhere with nature?”

“I want to be where you are,” he said. “New York can be your dream home, but mine is you.”

I shivered beneath a coat of goosebumps. Manning rubbed his hands over my back, but it was his words, not the cold, that got under my skin. I sat up, throwing a leg over his lap to straddle him. “I want to live on a mountain,” I said from above him, “just like this. With my great bear.”

He grabbed me by the waist with a throaty growl. “So, Goldilocks thinks she can tame a wild animal?” he asked, shifting me on his lap so I could feel how untamed he was. “She should be careful what she wishes for.”

“She wishes to try, even if it takes a lifetime.”

“Close your eyes,” he said. “Picture a time you were happiest.”

Maybe it was all the bear talk, but my mind went back in time, right to Young Cubs Camp, sneaking peeks at Manning across the cafeteria, or during counselor hour after the campers had gone to bed, or before breakfast, when we were supposed to have our eyes closed for Reflection. I’d forgotten that the morning Manning had been arrested, he and I had shared a moment right before the cops had shown up. After the night in the truck, our eyes had met during Reflection, electricity buzzing between us as if it were the beginning of something.

“What is it?” he asked. “What’s making you smile?”