Page 10 of What He Doesn't Know

“That, too.”

I willed her to smile, but she only glanced at Matthew playing over my shoulder before her eyes found mine again.

“My parents asked me to invite you over to dinner. They heard you were back in town. But I can tell them you’ve got other plans if you don’t want to come. I know how overbearing they can be sometimes.”

I searched her expression, wondering ifshewanted me to come to dinner, or if she was only asking out of obligation to her parents. I couldn’t decipher, and either way, I loved Max and Gloria Reid. I’d grown up with them as a second set of parents, and I wondered if seeing them might bring back that bit of home I longed for.

“Are you kidding? Your parents are the best. I’d love to come.”

“Really?”

I scoffed. “Charlie, who in the history of ever in Mount Lebanon has turned down your mother’s cooking?”

At that, her eyebrows raised in agreement. “Fair point. Well, dinner is at six tonight. I hope that’s not too early?”

“Six is perfect.”

She swallowed, watching me for a moment before she lifted one small hand in an awkward wave.

“Okay, then. See you at six. I assume you don’t need the address?”

“I think I got it.”

Charlie turned, and I told myself not to ask, but the question was already halfway out.

“Will I get to meet Mr. Pierce tonight?”

She stiffened, her hand catching on the frame as she quarter-turned, not facing me all the way, just casting a glance over her shoulder.

“He’s a Penguins’ season ticket holder, so he’ll be heading into the city tonight. But he’s dropping me off. I’m sure he’ll come in and say hello.”

I shouldn’t have assumed anything. I didn’t know a single fucking thing about her husband — his name, what he looked like, if he made her happy. Still, the way her eyebrows pinched together, the sad turn of the song in her voice, it clued me in to the fact that I didn’t need to know much to know something was off.

Was he the reason she didn’t smile anymore?

“Great. Can’t wait to meet the lucky guy.”

Charlie flushed, almost imperceptibly, just the faintest tinge of pink shading her cheeks. “See you later, Reese.”

I watched her walk away until Matthew played the last note.

Charlie

I stared at Cameron’s right hand on the drive over to Mom and Dad’s.

It was resting on the gear shift in his Audi, which was silly, because it was an automatic car and he didn’t need to shift. His left hand was on top of the steering wheel, keeping the car steady on the road, turning us easily whenever needed. That hand, his left one, was doing all the work, like it had ever since I first met Cameron at Garrick University — because his right hand belonged to me.

The first night he took me on a date — a real date — he drove me in his beat up clunker of a car. It was an old Pontiac, one that he spent nearly every weekend trying to keep running. I’d been so nervous, the book worm going on a date with one of the most popular guys on campus; captain of the hockey team, our star player, and he was aloof to all the other girls. Cameron Pierce was a mystery, and I didn’t know a single girl who had been granted more than one night in his bed to try to figure him out.

Until me, that is.

My hands shook that night in his car as he drove us to a small Italian diner off campus. I’d tucked them between my thighs, trying to keep them both warm and still. Cameron had asked me if I was nervous, and I’d only blushed and nodded. Then, he’d reached over and placed his right hand on my knee.

That one touch had set me on fire and calmed me all at once.

And ever since then, whenever he drove us anywhere, his hand always found me — my knee, my thigh, my hand. It was always there, it was always mine.

I couldn’t remember when that stopped.