Tiffany bounced in place, her eyes closed and her smile big. She’d pulled her hair back into a twisty-bun thing and kept everything simple with a loose sundress and little makeup. She was a natural beauty. “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

It wasn’t as if I had the world at my fingertips, just a few places where there weren’t any people. I led her away from the dining hall, where all the other counselors were hanging out, to a staff dining area off the kitchen. Gary and I had set it up earlier with a black tablecloth and a tall, white candle.

Tiffany opened her eyes when we stepped inside. “Oh my God,” she said. “This is so romantic.”

I pulled out a chair for her, then cupped my hand around the candle and lit the wick with my Zippo.

“You went through all this for me?” she asked.

I sat across from her. “You wanted me to prove it. I am.”

She studied me. “You really are old-fashioned, aren’t you? For a minute, I was worried you didn’t like me.”

“I like you.” At least, I was coming to appreciate things about her. She was adventurous and bold. No girls I knew were as unapologetic about their sexuality. And, she was beautiful. I hated myself for thinking it, but it was true. All the counselors knew it. I’d shut down some of the guys talking about her, had heard some jealous snipes from the other girls.

“I like you, too,” she said, sounding surprised. It occurred to me that she might also like other guys. I’d never had trouble getting women, but maybe I couldn’t hang on to a girl like Tiffany as long as I wanted. And then what? I’d go back to being alone, trying to keep the past at bay. Drinking, smoking, using my hands to build things for other people. It wasn’t a bad life. I slept with who I wanted. I didn’t have to watch my mouth or not light my cigs.

“Are you seeing anyone else?” I asked.

She darted her eyes over the table. “Are you?”

“Nope. Are you?” I asked again.

“Well . . . not really. I didn’t think you’d care if I did, though.”

Bucky came strolling out and made no secret about looking Tiff over. “Dinner’s about ready. I asked him what you like in your spaghetti but he didn’t know. How’s a man not know what his girl likes?”

Dick. I had a feeling he’d been waiting to call me out like that ever since I’d asked him for seconds the day before. I owed him for making us dinner, but if I didn’t I’d have told him to fuck off.

“Meatballs, I guess?” Tiffany said with a smile to egg him on. “What else is there?”

“Anything you want, gorgeous. Mushrooms, eggplant, roasted pepper, chicken . . .”

“You mind calling her by her name?” I asked. “We’re on a date here.”

Tiffany’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll take some wine if you have it,” she said to him. “Otherwise, whatever you made is fine.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Bucky sucked his teeth and returned to the kitchen.

“You’re . . .” She shook her head. “Not like anyone I’ve dated.”

“Same for you.”

“Is that a good thing?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Tiff. Most girls, I tell them something once and they listen, not three times. Even if Bucky flies to Italy and brings us back a bottle, I already told you, we’re not drinking wine.”

I prepared for her to argue, but instead she heaved a sigh. “I know. I’m just nervous.”

“No you’re not.”

She smiled, looking up at me from under her lashes. “Yes I am. Usually when I’m alone with a guy, we’re either drinking or smoking or there are people in the other room. It feels weird to just be out here in the middle of nowhere on a real date.”

Huh. That was something we pretty much had in common. When I brought a girl home, it was probably after a drink or four at my local spot. “Bad weird?”

“No . . .” She picked at nothing on the tablecloth. “Just different. Why’d you ask if I was seeing anyone else?”

For a conversation like this, I needed a fucking cigarette. I guessed that’s what Tiffany was talking about, getting too intense without something to take the edge off. “Maybe it’s too early for that.”

“Yeah.” She unfolded her napkin into her lap. “Maybe.”

“When I’m with a girl, she won’t be sleeping with anyone else. Understand?”

“No. You don’t want me for yourself, but you don’t want me with anyone else?”

My stomach grumbled. “I guess. I mean . . . it sounds fucked up. What do you want?”

“I haven’t been in a serious relationship since high school. And even then, it was . . .” She shrugged.

It wasn’t really an answer, but she didn’t say anything else, just twirled a saltshaker on the table.

Maybe she really was nervous. I put my hand over hers to stop her fidgeting, and I think it surprised us both a little. She flipped her palm up and flexed her fingers, lacing them with mine. Tiffany sat in front of me, but she wasn’t quite the brazen girl I’d seen until now.

“Your hands are rough,” she said. “Is that from work?”

“Pretty much. It’s definitely not from baseball.”

She giggled. “I guess not.”

Corbin had left camp, but not before he’d beat my ass on the diamond. I’d had to sit through nine innings of baseball against him this evening. I’d played a little in high school, so I’d been picked to coach the opposing team. Corbin had been in and out of baseball camp all summer and obliterated us while Tiffany and Lake had watched from the grass. Smug satisfaction sat on Corbin’s face as we shook hands after the game but disappeared completely as soon as Lake came around.

I released Tiffany’s hand. “What’s the deal with him?” I asked. “Corbin.”

She folded her arms on the table. “He’s a good guy, comes from a good family. Kind of a heartbreaker.”

“So he’s a little shit.”

She laughed. “No. He doesn’t do it on purpose. That’s why I was worried about Lake. Like, if Corbin had a crush on me and thought he could get close to me through her or maybe that Lake was, like, a substitute for me, then I’d worry he might hurt her. But he wouldn’t do it on purpose, you know? He’s not like that. He’s just a boy thinking with his . . . you know.”

Brave, bold Tiffany couldn’t come out and say what she wanted. It made me smile. Part of me wanted to hear it, just to tease her, but there was a bigger part of me that wanted to know about Corbin. “So do you think he’s a problem?”

She cocked her head. “How?”

Did I want him to be a problem? Maybe a little. That way I’d have an excuse to keep him away. “I don’t know. Will he try pressuring your sister into anything?”

“He’s not like that.” She rolled her eyes. “But maybe he should.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding. Of course I don’t want Lake to do anything before she’s ready, and she won’t. She’s too uptight. I swear she’s the youngest sixteen-year-old I know.”

“Meaning?”

“When it comes to boys, she acts like she’s twelve, but she isn’t. When I was her age, I wasn’t so naïve about these things. None of my friends were.”

I shifted in my seat. It was just like on the horse earlier, Lake trying to convince me she was older while I wanted to keep her innocent. “Maybe you were like that and you just forgot what it’s like to be that age.”

She laughed. “My freshman year, my first boyfriend was quarterback of the varsity football team. A senior. You think he treated me like a kid? No. He taught me and my friends how to sneak out of the house. How to party. Before him, I’d had one beer in my life. By the end of the year, I took beer bongs as an appetizer.”

I couldn’t picture Tiffany at sixteen, which left me picturing Lake. They shared certain expressions that made me wonder if Tiffany had ever been as sweet and pure as her sister—or if Lake was bound to become like Tiffany. Lake was on the right track. USC would open up all sorts of doors for her. Nothing should get in her way, especially not someone like me who had no steady job, a murky past, and little more than what fit in a bedroom. Tiffany, though, she was going through something she probably couldn’t recognize, not being motivated to find work or do anything of substance. She needed a hand out of it, and her dad was too busy with Lake. Even her mom hadn’t seemed to want to help, more interested in getting me to date Tiffany.

There was a pretty good chance I could be good for Tiffany, and an even better one I’d be bad for Lake.

Bucky returned and set both plates down. “It took some bargaining, but I got your wine,” he said to Tiffany. “It’s in the back. Hope you like red.”

“We don’t want any wine,” I said. “She’s underage.”

Tiffany nodded. “I changed my mind.”

With a visible sneer, Bucky muttered something under his breath that sounded like asshole. I had no idea what the fuck his problem was, but I didn’t ask him to repeat himself. I wouldn’t be able to control my reaction if I was right.

“This is so good,” Tiffany said when we were alone again.

The food smelled damn tempting, but our conversation still weighed on my mind. “You don’t think she’ll head down that path, right?”

Tiffany cut her meatballs into halves. “Who?”

“Lake.” I was pretty sure I knew the answer, but I wasn’t around much in the big scheme of things. “The parties and sneaking out and stuff.”

“Oh. No.”

I exhaled. Lake had a good head on her shoulders, and I had to trust that. I went to pick up my fork.

“She should,” Tiffany added, “but she probably won’t.”

I paused. “What do you mean should?”

“It makes me a little sad how she just does what Dad says all the time. Like he’s so perfect? He isn’t, you know.”

I had to agree there. “Still, it means she stays out of trouble.”

“And has no fun. I’m not saying she needs to be like I was. I don’t want her to be. I just don’t want her to look back and wish she’d been more . . . I don’t know. Balanced. Social. So what if she has a little too much to drink one night and embarrasses herself doing karaoke at a party? Or misses curfew because she lost track of time talking to a cute boy? Or ditches one class to go get ice cream at the mall?” She took a sip of water. “Big deal. She’ll be eighteen in a couple years anyway.”

I stared at her. I hadn’t even taken a bite. Was she saying Lake was almost eighteen? The way I’d been looking at it, she still had two long years to go, to change, to become who she was meant to be.

“Why do you bring her up so much?” Tiffany asked.

That was simple. “I worry.”

“But why?” Her tone was casual as she twirled noodles onto her fork. She lifted a shoulder. “You guys have a weird friendship.”

A tremor of panic rose up my chest. Couldn’t I have just kept my fucking mouth shut? No, because that was what Lake did to me. Truth was, I had good reason to be worried. A reason that would shut Tiffany right up. I just didn’t want to share it. I sat back in my seat, staring at my food for a minute as I worked up the nerve.

“You’re not eating,” Tiffany said, blinking big, pretty eyes at me, seemingly concerned. “I told you you’d spoil your appetite if you ate dinner with the kids.”

I glanced at my untouched food, my silverware, the melting candle. Then at Tiffany. She was right. The friendship was weird, and I didn’t want her thinking too hard about that. “My sister died,” I said.

Tiffany stopped chewing. “What?”

“I had a little sister. I can’t . . . talk about it. I don’t want to. But that’s why I get so protective of Lake. I don’t ever want you or your family to go through what mine did.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered, letting her fork clatter onto the plate. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. When you mentioned your sister, I thought . . . I thought—”

“It’s okay.” I needed her to stop talking. “It’s been years, so.”

“What was her name?”

I swallowed. I didn’t talk about Maddy. I would never say her name to a stranger, and that was how most people had felt to me since it’d happened. “Can’t.”

She took my hand. “Was she sick?”

My head began to swim. I nodded just to end the conversation, even if it was with a lie.

“Manning?” Tiffany stood up and came to me.

I tried to stop her. “You really don’t need to—”

She moved the table, actually pushed it back a foot, so she could sit on my lap.

“Tiff,” I said, but I put my arms around her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She touched my cheek, running her thumb over the corner of my mouth. “I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t sure how to feel. I didn’t want to talk about it, period. But it felt nice to be touched. It was something I hadn’t had in a long time, the soothing touch of a woman who cared. “Thanks.”

She ran her long fingernails over my hairline, and my eyes drooped shut. “That’s why you’re so protective.”

“Part of it.”

She took my face in both hands and kissed my forehead. “I can’t imagine if that happened to Lake. I’d die.”

My throat thickened. Thinking that could happen to Lake, but also that Tiffany cared way more about her sister than she let on. I wished I could promise Tiffany it would never happen, but that was the thing about Maddy’s death. I hadn’t fathomed it was even a possibility until it’d already happened. If I had, I would’ve done anything to prevent it.

I patted Tiffany’s ass. “Come on. Let’s not ruin the date. It’s going well.”

She pulled back and looked me in the face. There was no minty breath, no cigarette reek stuck to her. Just the earthy tomato sauce and wood cabin. She got up and went back to her side of the table. “Will you finally eat something?”

I picked up my fork and took a bite. “You should know,” I said, “that I eat a lot.” I shoved noodles in my mouth, and my words came out muffled. “A lot.”

“Yuck.” Tiffany giggled. “That’s disgusting.”

I washed down my bite with water. “You should see me with lasagna. Fucking massacre.”

She laughed harder. Tiffany took a forkful, pursed her lips, and slurped up a noodle. Tomato sauce splattered over her mouth, and instead of wiping it off right away, she just smiled and chewed. She was all right when she dropped the show. Her attitude could even be cute. The highlights, pink nail polish, low-cut tops—they didn’t attract me. Not more than any girl I might meet in a bar. This side of her, I could spend time with.

Dessert was store-bought chocolate cake with raspberry drizzle. Tiffany took two bites and slid her plate away. “I’m on a diet.”

“You don’t need to be on a diet.”

“That’s because I’m on one.” She waggled her eyebrows as if she’d bested me. “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t look this good.”

I wouldn’t argue with that. She did look good, and I liked that she knew it. That was one difference between Tiffany and a lot of the girls I’d met over the last few years. I ate half her cake in one bite and swallowed. “You think I should go on a diet?”

She smiled. “No. You’re a guy, and a big one. You can eat as much as you want. You work out, too. Don’t you?”

“Construction kind of requires it.”

She looked at her plate, which had become mine, and frowned. “I’ve been meaning to say . . . I’m sorry if my dad made you feel bad about what you do.”

“I get it. He wants you to be taken care of.” I liked construction but not that my next job was always up in the air. I saved every dime I could just in case. I didn’t ever want to end up with nothing to offer. In that way, I understood Tiffany’s dad. When the time came, nobody’d ever be able to accuse me of not taking care of my family.

“Well, it doesn’t matter to me. Money’s not important.”

“You say that because you have it. Living without it sounds glamorous to you.”

She waved me off. “I’d rather be in love than rich.”

It was becoming clear Tiffany didn’t expect much of me when it came to earning potential. And that she didn’t know herself as well as she thought. A girl like her would always need money. “You’re saying you’re okay with spaghetti and meatballs in a small room with a shitty candle instead of a fancy restaurant?”

“I’ve been to lots of fancy restaurants. You can’t do the slurp-y thing with your noodles.”

She might believe she’d choose love over money, but I didn’t. Not when it came down to it. “I get the feeling you aren’t really enjoying all this. Roughing it.”

She shrugged, her silliness dimming. “It’s fine.”

“That wasn’t convincing.” I sat back in my chair. “Is it the girls?”

“They hate me. I hate them. I can’t even . . . I don’t know how to handle them.”

If I didn’t think it’d hurt her feelings, I would’ve laughed. Surely Tiffany could see why she was having so much trouble. The girls were mini-versions of her. I leaned my elbows on the table. “Know what I think?”

“What?”

“There isn’t a person here who could handle them better than you.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s because you haven’t spent any time with my cabin.”

“Those kids, they’re just starting to learn about makeup and boys and clothing. Who knows more about that girly shit than you?”

“Nobody,” she stated.

“Exactly. People have different skills, Tiff. Use yours. It can’t be easy to put that black shit on your eyelids.”

She giggled. “Eyeliner? It’s not. It’s hard, actually.”

Did I think twelve-year-olds away from home should be learning to apply makeup? Not really. But in the scheme of things, I guessed it wasn’t so bad if it meant it’d change their experience here for the positive, and Tiffany’s, too. “Give them a lesson.”

“All right,” she said. “I guess I could try that. Then I’ll teach them how to be stylish, even in hiking boots.”

“There you go.” I finished off both desserts and stood. “I’ll walk you back.”

She also got up. “It’s still early.”

“Not in camp time. It’s like I need twice the amount of sleep here.”

As we walked outside, she grabbed my hand, but when I squeezed hers, she relaxed. My palm was probably clammy. The site was quiet, even more so as we headed into the woods. I could’ve used a cigarette, but I didn’t want to stop. Best I got her to her cabin quickly.

She took it upon herself, though, not that it surprised me. She stopped, getting me to look back with a light tug on my hand. “I want to thank you for dinner.”

“How?” I asked, but I knew.

She rose onto the balls of her feet and pressed her lips to mine. I stood still as a statue, as did she. This was the point where I was supposed to take over. I put my arm around her waist. For all her bravado, she melted against me quicker than I would’ve guessed, dissolving into our kiss. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t sure if I wanted it. It was happening. Any guy at this camp would’ve killed to be in my position.

I tried not to think of the horse earlier, of the defiant pout I’d left behind when I’d picked up Tiffany for our date tonight.

I didn’t realize my hand was on the back of Tiffany’s head until I pulled her hair, and she moaned, bringing me back to the moment. She pushed her tongue against my lips, and I opened my mouth. I owed her my attention, but she also demanded it. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me harder. I followed her lead, going through the motions, trying not to give in to the wet, willing mouth attached to mine. She took my bottom lip between her teeth and nipped it. My dick woke up. Fuck, this girl knew what she was doing.

An owl hooted so loud, I jumped back as if we’d been caught. I held her at a distance by her waist.

“What?” she whispered.

“I . . . should get you back.”

“Seriously?” She stepped into me and trailed soft fingers along the back of my neck, playing with the ends of my hair.

It’d been months since I’d kissed someone. Two seconds in, we’d stripped down to jump in bed. She’d told me her name, but I couldn’t remember it now.

“I’m just getting started,” Tiffany said.

“I know.” Between being turned on and needing to keep our bodies apart, I was a little out of breath. “That’s why I have to stop. You’re getting me excited, and there’s not really anything I can do about it until we get home. Know what I mean?”

“Who says we have to wait?” She removed an arm from around my neck, lowering it to my pants.

I caught her wrist. “I promised Gary we’d keep it PG.”

She smiled. “How would he know? Unless he’s watching with binoculars, the pervert.”

“I told you.” I had to force the words out while my angry cock throbbed. “I like to take things slow.”

She sighed, softening against my chest. “I guess. But this is super slow.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked with a grunt. Here was a girl who had what men wanted and actually knew it. Why give it up so fast? “You should be the one making me wait.”

She moved away from me. “What do you mean?”

“You know you’re worth more than that.” The only sound was her breathing. “It’ll happen,” I said. “Just be patient.”

She didn’t respond right away. What she was thinking about, I had no idea. “Okay,” she said finally. “We can stay slow for a while.”

“Good.” I took her hand again and led her to her cabin. “See you in the morning. Seven o’clock sharp, all right? I don’t want to see you on cleaning duty again.”

She wandered away, a little dazed, while I wondered why pointing out her worth had only seemed to confuse her.