What He Always Knew (What He Doesn't Know Duet Book 2)

by Kandi Steiner

  Charlie wouldn’t look at me, her lip pinned between her teeth as her eyes skated everywhere but up to mine.

  “A lot has changed since then…”

  The blood drained from my face, my heart thumping loud in my ears as I tried to keep us dancing. “What the hell does that mean? Are you… are you saying you might stay with him?”

  Her eyes snapped up to mine, but she didn’t have a chance to answer before Mr. Henderson’s voice spoke over the fading end of the song.

  “Let’s hear a big round of applause for our band this evening, The Ravendoors,” he said, the room breaking into applause as Charlie pulled back from me to clap with them.

  My jaw was clenched, my hands clapping a little too hard as I tried to focus on the stage, all the while watching Charlie. I was losing her, or maybe I already had, and I couldn’t let her go back to her table with Cameron — not yet.

  “If you’ll all make your way back to your seats, we’ll be starting the award ceremony shortly. But, before we do, I’d like to thank our sponsors for the evening…”

  Mr. Henderson continued, the dance floor clearing as everyone found their seats, but before Charlie could make her way back to her table, I grabbed her wrist and tugged her in the opposite direction.

  “What are you doing?” she whisper-yelled.

  But I didn’t answer. It was all I could do to smile at people as we passed, putting on whatever show I still had to give. I didn’t care what anyone thought. I had to have her alone.

  The gala was hosted on the top floor of one of the hotels downtown, and I pulled Charlie through the doors that led to the rooftop garden. Mr. Henderson’s voice was muffled as soon as the door closed behind us, and we were the only ones outside, everyone else already back at their tables to await the ceremony.

  “We can’t be out here,” Charlie said, pulling her wrist free. “They’re about to do the awards.”

  “I don’t care.”

  I grabbed her hands in mine, pulling her behind one of the large trees that the garden lights hung from. It was a bit chilly that evening, though the days had brought spring on in full force. Charlie shivered once we were blocked from the view of the ballroom, and I stripped off my tuxedo jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders.

  “Reese, we have to go back inside.”

  “Not yet,” I argued. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Charlie pressed her fingers to her temple. “Please, Reese. Let’s talk about this later. I don’t feel well, and—”

  “It’s been two months,” I interrupted, waiting until she looked at me to say my next sentence. “Just tell him goodbye. Tell him it’s over.”

  Charlie looked so small in that moment, wrapped in my jacket, her breath escaping her painted lips in little puffs of white. Her brows drew inward, her arms crossing over one another as she looked down at my shoes.

  “Damn it, Charlie, tell him it’s over. Tell him the truth!”

  “What, like you’ve told Blake?” she shot back, her eyes hard on mine again.

  “I’ll tell her right now. Tonight. You want me to go get her and bring her out here? Because I will. I’ll do it.” I started for the door, but Charlie stopped me, pressing one tiny hand into my chest.

  “Don’t be stupid,” she whispered.

  “I’m not, I’m being serious.” I held her small arms in my hands, catching her gaze with mine. “I will tell her right now, Charlie. I want you. I want to be with you.”

  Her lip quivered, but she looked up at the lights above us to force a calming breath. I let her capture it, watching the emotions wash across her face. I wanted to kiss her more than I could say, more than I wanted almost anything in the world — other than to hear her say she loved me, that she chose me, that it was all over and we could be together.

  “I want to be with you,” I repeated, stepping into her.

  I slid one hand into her hair, and she leaned into the touch with a sigh. I wished I could hold her like that forever, that I could have her in my hands that way and know I didn’t have to memorize the feel of her because there was no guarantee I’d touch her like that again.

  I dropped my forehead to hers, our lips just inches apart, and I breathed in her scent before I asked the only question that mattered.

  “Do you want to be with me?”

  Charlie’s face twisted, her hands reaching out to fist in my dress shirt, and I heard the sound of my own heart crack when she spoke again.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” I asked, pulling back from her. I searched her eyes, confusion sinking into me right along with the overwhelming urge to jump off the roof. “You don’t know?”

  “I don’t know!” she said louder, pushing away from me. She turned, pacing toward the city with her thumbnail in between her teeth, and I stared at the silhouette of her against those lights like I was in the middle of a bad dream.

  “You do know,” I argued. “You know, Charlie. You love me. I know you do. You love me, damn it.”

  “I do!” she turned, her hands outstretched toward me as tears flooded her eyes. “But, I love him, too. And I just… I can’t… this is all too much. Everything I thought, it’s all just… it’s a mess. My whole life is upside down and I can’t see or make sense of anything.”

  Her words stumbled into each other, they fell out of her mouth so fast, and her breaths were as unsteady as the heartbeat under my ribs.

  “I need to sit down,” she said, one hand finding her head as she wobbled forward for the bench. “I need to think. I need time.”

  “You’ve had time, Charlie,” I reminded her, grabbing her hand to help her sit. I took the place next to her, folding her hands in mine. “I know you love us both, I get it, but you don’t love him like you love me. I’m the one for you,” I said as she shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes again. “I’m the one for you and you know it.”

  “Please, Reese.”

  “Tell him. Tell him tonight.”

  “I don’t feel well. Please, can we just—”

  “Damn it, Charlie,” I said, and in the next instant, my lips were on hers, hard and needy and bursting with the urgency I felt in every inch of my being. I wrapped her in my arms as she melted into me, her tears falling to slip between our lips. She was crying because she knew the truth, because she knew it was me, and she didn’t want to hurt Cameron. I knew it, but I couldn’t wait any longer.

  I had to have her now.

  “Tell me you love me,” I begged her, my hands framing her face as I kissed her again. “But only if it’s true.”

  “I love you,” she whispered, her face breaking with the admission. “I always have. You brought me back to life, Reese.”

  She kissed me between her words, shaking her head like I was stupid to even question her love at all.

  “I have never felt the way I feel with you with anyone else in my entire life. Saying I love you isn’t enough to really say how I feel about you. I cherish you, I want you, I can’t imagine having to live without you.”

  “Then be with me.”

  Her face warped with emotion again, but before she could say another word, her eyes shot open wide at something behind me.

  “I knew it.”

  A chill raced down my spine, dread covering me like a cool mist as I turned to find Blake standing behind me.

  “I fucking knew it!” She threw her drink at me, splattering me with wine as I dodged the glass. It shattered somewhere behind Charlie as she hid behind me. “Is this why you won’t touch me, why you won’t so much as kiss me?”

  “Blake, I can explain.”

  “You can explain why you’re making out with a married woman while your girlfriend is in the other room?!” she challenged, laughing. “Oh, please, do tell.”

  “I love her,” I said. Charlie squeezed my arm, but I kept going. “I’m sorry, Blake. But I do.”

  “And what about me?” Blake cried.

  I just stared at her, a foreign ache in
my heart surging at the sight of her crying. I never wanted to hurt her. I never wanted her to find out like this. But I couldn’t take it back, now, and I wouldn’t even if I could.

  “Fuck you, Reese Walker,” she spat, and she turned on her heels, knocking straight into Cameron on her way back inside.

  He held an award in his hand.

  “Cam,” Charlie gasped, stepping out from behind me. She looked from him to me and back again, her mouth open with words stuck just inside.

  Cameron’s brows were low over his eyes, his mouth in a flat line as he glanced between the two of us. He shook his head, a sardonic laugh slipping from his lips as he let his head fall back, his eyes cast up toward the sky. He slid one hand into his pocket, the other still holding the gold apple award, and he took his time bringing his gaze back to Charlie. When it was there, the hurt in his eyes was enough to feel like a knife between my own ribs, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.

  “You won teacher of the year,” he said, his voice flat. “They just announced it. Congratulations.”

  And with that, he set the award on a bench, turned, and stormed off in the same direction Blake had.

  Charlie lunged forward, her voice strained with emotion. “Cam!”

  “Let him go,” I told her, wrapping her in my arms, but she shoved me away, stumbling over her heels in the process.

  Then, she ran to the nearest tree, doubling over just in time to vomit at its base.

  “Shit.” I rushed to her, holding her steady as she lost her dinner in the bushes. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

  “Stop!” she managed, throwing up again as soon as the word was out of her mouth. She shoved me away, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist as she stood. “Can’t you see we’re monsters? Look at us!” Charlie was screaming now, her eyes wild. “We’ve hurt people we love. We’ve killed them, without even caring, without even feeling so much as a tinge of guilt.”

  “We love each other,” I reminded her, stepping into her space. I just needed to hold her again, I needed to pull her into me, feel her heartbeat against my own. “Yes, it’s messy, but it won’t be forever. This is just a means to an end, and—”

  Charlie held up her hand, shaking her head with her eyes squeezed shut.

  “Just let me take you home.”

  “I’ll get a cab.”

  She started for the door, yanking her wrist away when I reached for her.

  “Charlie, don’t. Please. Don’t walk away from me.”

  She spun, desperation written in every feature as she begged me. “I need time, Reese. Space. Sleep. I just… I need to fucking think.” She cried, her hands falling to her thighs in exasperation. “Please, for the love of God, just give me one night.”

  Every cell in my body ached with the need to hold her. I debated kidnapping her then, throwing her over my shoulder and stealing her away like a caveman claiming his property.

  But Charlie wasn’t mine.

  And I knew more than anything in that moment that I’d be lucky if I ever got to say she was.

  I threw my hands up, swallowing my pride along with the need to be with her in that moment. “Whatever you need, Charlie,” I promised her. “I will give it to you. Tonight, tomorrow, for the rest of our lives, should I get the chance.”

  Her eyes flicked between mine, and she sniffed, nodding just once before she turned her back on me.

  And then she was gone.

  Charlie

  There was a secret place I went that no one knew about.

  It was just five blocks from my house, just a left, a right, three streets past a stop sign and one more left turn. That’s where my spot was, and no one knew about it — not Cameron, not Reese, not my parents — no one but me.

  This place was not a beautiful waterfall or a breathtaking view of the city. It was not a quiet place, nor was it a place for contemplative thinking. For all intents and purposes, I was the last person you’d expect to find in such a place, but it was my favorite one to go to on days like this — days when I needed time with myself.

  It was the morning after the gala, and though it was the last place most would expect to find me, my spot was where I went.

  Because this place, my spot, it was loud and full of laughter. It was a snapshot of time for so many, a little memory they’d hold onto, or perhaps one they’d forget. It housed secrets and stories, heartbreak and triumph, and joy for people of all ages.

  To the average man or woman driving by, it was just a park. It was just a swing set and a jungle gym, a few picnic tables, and a statue. It was just some trees and flowers, just a place to take children, a place to keep them occupied and entertained for a short while.

  But for me, that park was where I’d walk when I was pregnant with Jeremiah and Derrick.

  It was where I’d sit on the same bench almost every day and imagine what it would be like to watch them play there. It was where I’d talk to them, where I’d tell them about their family, about me, about Cameron, about the town they would live in and the house they would call a home. It was where I’d close my eyes and feel the breeze in my hair, the sun on my skin, wondering which beautiful day that summer would deliver me my baby boys.

  After they passed, I still came to the park.

  I would sit on the same bench, though not as often as before, and I’d try to recount that joy I’d felt before. I’d watch other children play, wondering if they would have been friends with Jeremiah and Derrick, and I’d observe the parents, wondering if they would have talked to me if I had the boys by my side.

  To most of the people there, I was invisible — just a lonely woman on a park bench with her head in the clouds. They likely thought I was on my lunch break, or just passing by on my way home. None of them knew that was my place, that they were just visitors, but I knew.

  That park was where I first talked to my sons, the ones whom I lost, the ones whom I would never forget. It was where I talked to them after they were gone, praying they’d hear how much I missed them, and how much I loved them still.

  And it was where I talked to the new baby, the one who grew inside me now, along with the hope I had that he or she would get the chance to live.

  I watched a little boy wobbling his way up the stairs to one of the smaller slides, his tongue sticking out of his little mouth as he focused on his balance. The man I assumed to be his father watched him from a bench across from me, a small smirk on his face, and I found myself staring at him just as much as the boy as I rubbed my still-flat belly.

  Soon, it would be round, full of life, just like it had been once before. And the little peanut that existed inside me now would grow to a peach and then to a cantaloupe and a watermelon, too. I would talk to my baby during each stage of growth, feel how he or she changed within me, and on a date yet to be determined, I would hold that baby in my arms. I would kiss their nose, their feet, their tiny little hands, and standing there beside me would be a proud, smiling man just like the one that sat across the park from me.

  I just didn’t know which man that would be.

  For the first time since Mallory moved away when I was just sixteen, I found myself wishing I had a friend. I wanted someone to dump my thoughts and feelings on, someone who could tell me how to detangle the absolute mess that my life had become.

  I’d been so mad when Mallory moved away, so hurt by being left behind, that I’d never gotten close with anyone like that again. I had my books and my schoolwork, my parents and my volunteering — that was all enough for me. I didn’t need friends to go out and party with, or a bunch of girlfriends to have over for wine and movies. And when I met Cameron, he became my best friend.

  After that, I decided I didn’t need anyone else.

  But here I was, painted into a damp, dark corner with no one to help me out of it but myself.

  There was only one person I could think of who would let me share my load with them, who would take my secrets to the grave as their own, and who would give me the
tough love I needed — and that was Graham.

  That’s why he was the first person I ever told about my spot, and the first person I ever invited to meet me there.

  I saw him when he first pulled in, all alone in Mom’s car that she’d been letting him borrow since he and Christina got into town. They were leaving in a few days, and other than the hospital and one family dinner night, I’d barely seen him. Asking him to come sit at a park with me while I told him what a shit human I’d become wasn’t exactly my idea of brother/sister bonding, but it was what I needed.

  And I knew Graham would always be there for me when I asked.

  His eyes swept over the park, confusion on his face until I lifted a hand to wave from where I sat. He smiled then, tucking his hands in the pockets of his shorts as he made his way over.

  I slid to the left side of the bench, making room for him to sit, and once he did, he let out a long breath of air.

  “I gotta say, this is the last place I expected when you said you wanted me to meet you somewhere,” he said, looking up at the trees. “Looks like I can’t get coffee or booze for whatever conversation we’re about to have, huh?”

  I chuckled. “Nope. Just fresh air and the sweet sound of children screaming.”

  “Guess I should get used to that last one, huh?”

  I smiled, tucking a strand of wind-blown hair behind my ear. “That you should, big brother.”

  “At least it’s beautiful outside today,” he said, gazing out over the park.

  It was a gorgeous day, spring finally blessing Pennsylvania one slow day at a time. Cold fronts still whipped through, but the sun was shining more, the temperatures peeking into the sixties and seventies. I was glad to be out of the house without a coat on, with the sun on my skin as it shone through the trees.

  “How’s Christina?”

  Graham kicked back more on the bench, crossing his ankles in front of us while his arms rested outstretched on the back. “She’s great, back to her normal, hormonal self — if there is such a thing. Mom’s doting on her, which she loves, and she’s had more pizza since we got home from the hospital than she did the entire time we were dating, I’m pretty sure.”