Somebody Else's Sky (Something in the Way #2)(64)

He let go of my top, and it uncrinkled like a piece of paper. He fixed it quickly, then stepped back over to the sink. "In the kitchen," he called. "Your sister's here." To me, he said, "Get down."

I slid off the counter just before Tiffany shuffled out in panties and nothing else, rubbing her eyes. "Lake?"

"Tiff." Manning jutted his chin behind her. "You're naked."

She rolled her eyes. "Lake's seen my boobs a hundred times." 

It was true, I had, but never like this. Never in front of Manning. Not with the knowledge that Tiffany had come straight out here from bed, which meant she slept next to Manning every night like that. Naked. When I'd called earlier, he'd been in bed with her. When he left me now, that was where he'd go. To her bed.

"Why are you here?" Tiffany asked me.

I cupped my right shoulder, trying to hide that my strap had broken. "I . . ."

"Never mind," she said. "Tell me in the morning. Manning, come to bed. I need you for something."

Something? I looked between the two of them, my vision going fuzzy. Had it been this dark and hazy a minute ago? Had the clock glared this hard, green lasers cutting through my euphoria?

Tiffany plodded back into the bedroom. Manning picked up his glass, filling it under the faucet as he stared out the window over the sink.

"Manning?"

He shut off the water and turned away.

"Where are you going?" I asked, following him with my eyes.

"Bed."

"You can't." It came out softly, but I wanted to shout at him. Shake him. You can't go in there. You can't! He and Tiffany were going to have sex. They'd already had sex. Of course I knew it, but I'd never actually known it. Not until this moment.

He checked over his shoulder, then came back to stand in front of me. "You asked what I thought about in there," he said quietly. "A lot. Everything. You, and Tiffany, too. But mostly, I thought about my dad. All the awful things he did. The coward he was. And how I would never become him. Not even for you."

He returned to the bedroom. I had no idea what he'd meant, or why he thought I could possibly turn him, the man I loved, into his dad, the man he hated. I was the one who was helpless in all this. I got that same panicky feeling I had when I'd opened my college acceptance packet. My future had been set, but which, if any, of these choices had I made?





16





Manning





I woke up next to my girlfriend, and there was nothing strange about that. Except that the night before, I'd just about lost my control to the urge to taste watermelon again, just once before I died.

Dried sweat made my hairline stiff. Last night I'd dreamed of Lake. She'd needed me and I'd been helpless. It'd shaken me even more than usual knowing Lake slept under my roof. She was close. Safe.

Except that she wasn't.

I'd turned into her instead of away. She'd radiated warmth and comfort, and having a nightmare about her had made me especially vulnerable. Maybe there was no more dangerous place for Lake than anywhere I was. I'd let myself get lost in her before, and one of those times, I'd paid a heavy price. Yet I'd still gone to pick her up, knowing we'd be alone in the car. She had a power over me that could hurt us both, and I had to be the strong one between us.

Like most mornings, I was up before Tiffany. By the time I'd showered, changed into a t-shirt and jeans, and downed half a pot of coffee, neither of the girls had gotten up. I was pulling eggs and bacon from the refrigerator when Lake shuffled out of the guest bedroom. Good thing for my sanity, she'd put a sweatshirt on. It didn't cover as much as it should, but at least I couldn't see her tits anymore. Those soft hills that peaked into hard little pebbles. They had to be close to a C cup, perky, perfect-and not mine to ogle or touch.

Lake rubbed her red eyes. I felt like a real piece of shit that there was even a chance she'd cried herself to sleep. "Sit," I said. "I'm making you breakfast."



       
         
       
        

She'd stopped in the middle of the living room, by the front door, as if she might make a break for it. "I'm not hungry."

I ignored her. "We don't have any fancy guest plates, but you can use my mug. It was a gift from Gary." I showed her my coffee cup, a man in black-and-white prison scrubs asking a zebra what it's in for. She didn't laugh. I filled it with orange juice and set it in front of a stool at the breakfast bar.

She blinked her puffy eyelids. Had she even gone to the bathroom yet? Or just stumbled out and into my orbit? I couldn't tell what she was thinking-probably something about Tiffany and me. If she'd had sex with Corbin last night, that's damn well what I'd be thinking about.