Lake returned to the living room dressed in shorts with her bag slung over her shoulder. “I’m going.”
“You didn’t finish your breakfast,” I said.
“I told you I wasn’t hungry.” She avoided our eyes as she walked to the front door. “Dad’ll be here any minute.”
“We could’ve taken you home,” I said.
Lake didn’t even glance back as she walked out, closing the door gently behind her.
I turned back to Tiffany, who was watching the door. “Did she have fun?” she asked.
I dumped the contents of Lake’s dish onto mine. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
Absentmindedly, she stirred more creamer into her coffee. “Did she?”
“She said she had a great time.”
“Then why did she need to be picked up? Did something happen?”
I thought back to when I’d pulled up to the hotel, to Corbin and Lake standing in the lobby, smiling, kissing. I should’ve been grateful she hadn’t slept with him, but I didn’t like that Corbin had even tried. He probably hadn’t been the first, and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.
“I don’t know,” I said, forking some eggs into my mouth. It was partially true. Lake hadn’t told me outright why she’d asked to be picked up. “She’s a teenage girl.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t because of Corbin. He’s too sweet.”
Sweet. Fuck sweet. He was a teenage boy first. “How do you know?” I chewed. “Sometimes it’s those guys you have to look out for.”
“Because we’ve known his family a while. He and his brothers are perfect gentlemen.”
I blinked a few times, unsure of where to start with that. Why did everyone keep calling him a gentleman?
“He used to like me,” she continued.
“You mentioned.”
She picked a piece of bacon off my plate. “Maybe he still does, and that’s why he took Lake to prom.”
There was no way Corbin flew all the way in from New York to make Tiffany jealous, but I wasn’t about to argue. I was still wrapping my head around the fact that Tiffany knew about my night with Lake. How much had Lake told her?
“They’re a good match, though, aren’t they?” she asked, sliding onto Lake’s stool. “Corbin and Lake. He’s good-looking, smart, rich, and from a good family. Perfect guy for a perfect girl.”
During prom photos, Corbin had put his arms around Lake and made her laugh like it was nothing. Like he deserved her. Even her dad approved of him. As if I’d needed the reminder that I was neither deserving, nor approved of. My stomach had churned watching his hands on her, his possessive grip on her shoulders.
“Nobody’s perfect,” I said.
“Except Lake.”
I couldn’t really argue that. Lake wasn’t without her flaws, but I couldn’t name a single one, and I doubted they’d be enough to keep any man away. I shifted gears. I could tell by Tiffany’s sharp tone, agreeing with her would be the death of me. “Some people might say you’re perfect,” I pointed out.
She bit off a piece of bacon, narrowing her eyes at me. “Some people?”
“You’re gorgeous. Clever. Funny. Hard-working.” I handed her a paper towel when she spilled some coffee on her top. “You have everything going for you.”
She patted the stain, glancing up at me. “Plus, I have you.”
I nodded a little. “Perfect boyfriend, eh?” I was far from a perfect boyfriend. I wasn’t even sure I was a good one, but sometimes, like now, she made me feel like I was, and it made me want to try harder.
Tiffany smiled. “Do you ever think about the future?”
I glanced out at the patio, at my pack of cigarettes. It made me anxious when I couldn’t be sure if Tiffany was being genuine or angling for something. Instead, I picked up Lake’s orange juice and took a sip. “What future?”
“Ours. We’ve been together a while now.”
“Most of our relationship developed in a small room while guards watched.” I wasn’t joking, but Tiffany laughed.
“I’m just saying. We should start thinking about the next step. I mean, I’ve already thought about it—haven’t you?”
I hadn’t really until Gary had brought it up a couple months ago. I’d assumed Tiffany would want to talk about all this at some point, just not so soon. “Aren’t you too young to start thinking about that?”
“You’re not. And a few girls from my class got married last year.”
“What about your dad?” All the times I’d been to his house, and Charles still gave me the cold shoulder. He didn’t like me dating Tiffany; he might blow a gasket if he knew we were talking about getting serious. “He’d never go for that.”
“He might. Maybe it’d get him to back off a little.”
I piled the dishes and pans in the sink. “Or you and I getting married would just send him over the edge.”
“Maybe,” she said. She took her coffee into the bedroom and said, “Or maybe he’ll finally relax a little knowing I’m taken care of.”