Page 7 of What He Never Knew

I stared at the cloth between us, shaking my head and quickly swiping the tears from my face. I forced a smile. “I’m okay, it was just very moving.”

Uncle Randall gave me a knowing smile, tucking his handkerchief away again. “That’s how I feel when I hear you play.”

I blushed, gaze falling to where my hands rested in my lap. I didn’t know how to accept a compliment about my playing, especially not when I knew I was trying and failing at overcoming my injuries — both internal and external. The piano I’d used to find salvation in now scared me. It was hard, unfamiliar, intimidating.

And if I closed my eyes, I could still see the underbelly of the one at Bramlock — that smooth, dark surface that hid the strings and keys that brought music to life. It was all I could stare at with my wolf on top of me.

I couldn’t find salvation in it that day, and I hadn’t since.

The crowd quieted again as Reese cleared his throat, finally addressing the room with a smile so big I couldn’t believe it belonged to the man I’d just heard play that piece. He tucked a fallen strand of hair back behind his ear and held out his hands. “Well, thank you for that very warm welcome.”

The room applauded again, and this time I joined in, smiling at him from my little corner of the room.

His cheeks were red as he surveyed the crowd, and when his eyes swept over my section, they continued on without pause before snapping back to me.

Me.

At first, I assured myself I was imagining it. But the longer he looked, the less confident I became in that thought.

I stopped clapping as he watched me, feeling pinned to that booth by the weight of his gaze, but it wasn’t the same stare I was used to — the one that said I didn’t belong. It was one of wonder, of genuine curiosity — one that stole my next breath and held it captive in the space between us.

Just as quickly as that gaze had come to me, it was ripped away, and Reese was smiling again, quieting the crowd.

“My name is Reese Walker, resident pianist at The Kinky Starfish and local teacher at Westchester Prep. I’ll be your entertainment this evening, though I’m not nearly as satisfying as the white chocolate truffle cake.”

The room laughed, and I tilted my head in wonder. He was such a charming man, an entertainer, to be sure. It was fascinating how much the man speaking now contrasted with the one who had just played.

“That was an original piece calledThe Darkest Dawn,” he continued, hands floating over the keys in a soft melody. “But I’d like to play some Beethoven for you now, if that’s alright?”

Reese smiled at the light applause, and just like that, he slipped back into performance mode, and I slipped away into his universe.

And that’s how the entire evening went.

Between small bites of my dinner that my uncle chided me for not eating more of, I sat enraptured by Reese Walker. He played everything from Beethoven to The Beatles and everything in-between. Some songs were played softer, meant to be heard only as background noise as the patrons conversed over their dinners. But other songs commanded the room’s attention, and those were the ones I preferred.

He was simply magical to watch, and I was completely under his spell.

“Oh!” My uncle dabbed his mouth with his napkin before clapping his hands together. “Come on, he’s taking his break. Let me introduce you.”

“Oh, Uncle Randall, we can wait,” I said, a slight panic in my voice as I watched Reese slip back into the shadows after announcing he would be back after a short break. “I’m sure he’d like some time to himself.”

“Nonsense,” my uncle insisted, already standing. “Reese is a friend, and I’m sure he’s excited to meet his new student.”

He was already four steps ahead of me by the time I had my napkin off my lap, and I had no choice but to take a gulp of water and follow.

I smoothed my hands over my dark, wintergreen slacks, forcing a steadying breath as my uncle grabbed Reese in a bear hug before he could get too far from the piano. I stood behind Uncle Randall as invisible as I could be for as long as he’d let me, watching Reese with my heart beating loud in my ears. But my time hiding in the corner was short lived, because my uncle wrapped one arm around me and pulled me between him and Reese, offering me up like a plate of cookies. It was a bit comical and a lot awkward, seeing as how I was a full three-inches taller than him.

I realized very quickly that I wasnottaller than Reese.

“Reese, this is my talented niece I was telling you about,” my uncle beamed. “Your new student, Miss Sarah Henderson.”

I wanted to shrink away the moment his eyes met mine.

They were two dark, endless wells that seemed to suck me into that universe I’d had a glimpse of when he played. There was color there, in those irises, but I couldn’t make it out in the dim light of the restaurant. Instead, his eyes just felt like colorless hands that were rooting me to the spot where I stood. He held my gaze for a long pause, his head tilting just a fraction to the left before he extended an actual hand with more of a question in his eyes than a greeting.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Henderson.”

“It’s just Sarah,” I said, and I was glad I got the words out before my hand slipped into his.