What He Never Knew (What He Doesn't Know, #3)(72)

Jennifer was still watching me through the slits of her eyelids, her mouth pursed as she tried to decipher what I’d just said. I was pissed that I’d said that much, but she’d pushed me, and bringing up Charlie was like shoving her long, manicured fingers into my most tender bruise.

“Goodnight, Jennifer,” I said again, hands on the wheel and eyes on the road.

I didn’t look at her again, not when she huffed, flinging her door open before slamming it behind her, and not when she stormed up her driveway to her house. Even though I wanted to peel out of there like a man on fire, I waited until she was safely inside, letting out a long breath of frustration as I finally threw the car in drive.

I sped the whole way home, mumbling curse words as steam rolled off me more and more with every turn. How dare she? How dare she presume to know anything about me, and then, take that “knowledge” and try to use it against me like that.

Jennifer Stinson was a bitch — that was just the only fucking word for her. Capital B-I-T-C-H. Still, her words had struck a chord.

She doesn’t love you.

Only it wasn’t Charlie I thought of when she’d said that.

I swallowed, trying to fight through the chaos of the night to digest the feelings I had beneath it all. It seemed impossible, to peel back the layers I’d sheltered myself under for years. I didn’t want to figure it out, I decided, and I was in the process of locking up that cellar of shit when I turned onto my street.

I was within minutes of a beer, and it was all I could focus on.

Until I saw her.

Sarah was on my porch, sitting with her feet on the step and her arms wrapped around herself in a little ball. She rested her chin on her knees, barely lifting her gaze when my car swung into the drive.

I watched her from the safety of my car for as long as I could before dragging myself out of it, locking it behind me with two beeps that broke the silence of the night. Sarah sat up a little straighter as I approached, her wide eyes scanning the length of me before her gaze found mine.

Why did the entire world seem to stop when our eyes met?

Those honey pools sucked me in, pulling me under like a rip tide as she looked up at me. She seemed so small in that moment, so vulnerable and exposed with her sweater-covered arms wrapped around her long legs. It was unlike I’d ever seen her before. Even when she was telling me about her assaulter, she held her chin high, back straight, strength rolling off her like steam off a train.

She was unbreakable, it had always seemed — and yet, in that moment, she was a woman in pieces on my doorstep.

I slid my hands into the pockets of my dress slacks, glancing down each side of my street before I found her gaze again. I didn’t know what to say.

Should I ask why she’s here? Invite her inside? Ask if she’s okay?

I wanted to reach out to her, but the petulant side of me that had been brought to life by Jennifer’s comments refused to let me. It didn’t matter that I knew I couldn’t blame Sarah for putting me in that situation. I still did. And as much as I wanted to hold her, to make sure she was okay — I also wanted to tell her to leave me alone.

I wanted everyone to just leave me the fuck alone.

All those thoughts were stuck in my big, stupid head, and the only thing I could do was wait for her to speak first.

Time stretched between us, long and heavy as we watched each other. There were a million questions in those eyes of hers, and I knew she likely saw each and every one of them reflected in my own.

Slowly, after what felt like an eternity, Sarah unwrapped her arms from where they held her legs, bracing herself on the large column by the stairs before pushing herself to stand. Her brows drew together, and where she stood now under the porch light, I saw the remnants of dried tears on her cheeks.

“I think I’m ready to play the song.”





Sarah



Reese wouldn’t look at me.

Not as he unlocked his door, letting me into his foyer first before he came in behind me. Not as Rojo nearly knocked me over, barking and wagging her tail in joy at seeing us both. Not as he steered her through the house and out the back door, letting her outside. And not as he silently poured us each a glass of water, one hand unfastening the tie around his neck as the other handled the pitcher.

I watched him yank on the tie from where I sat at the kitchen counter, my palms damp, heart racing. My gaze bounced around, landing on him for only a brief moment before I’d look at the glasses he was pouring water into, or the paintings that hung on his wall, or at Rojo, who was roaming around the kitchen with a toy in her mouth, tail wagging.

I couldn’t look at him very long, either. Not with him dressed like that.

Not with him looking so handsome I wanted to cry.

Jennifer had been with him all night looking like that. She’d been able to stare at his bright smile across what I imagined to be a candle-lit table. She’d been the reason his hair was styled and neat, his jaw freshly shaved, his hard, god-like body covered in a tailored, charcoal suit that brought an edge to him I’d never seen before.

And as he let that tie fall loose around his neck, popping open two buttons on his dress shirt with a sigh of relief, I found I had to tear my eyes away again.

“How was your date?” I asked, breaking the silence as he replaced the water pitcher inside his fridge.

A short, snuff of a laugh came from his nose. “It’s nine-thirty and I’m already home.” He paused, locking eyes on mine. “Alone. So, how do you think it went?”