“Fine.” I glance out the window, watching as the neighborhood becomes increasingly shabby. Shame sweeps over me again.
Cameron clears his throat, and I know that throat clearing is always the beginning of an awkward moment.
“Want to go somewhere?” he asks. I turn and find him staring out the windshield, looking more nervous than he sounds.
“I already went somewhere with you, remember?”
“I remember,” he says casually. “But I thought you might be curious to see where I live.”
“And why would you think that?” I realize that I sort of am. And I can’t believe he’d even think of taking me there.
“Well, are you?” His lips have a small curve as he continues not to look at me.
Outside the window, the houses seem empty and desperate. Evan has a dentist appointment and won’t be home until after six. My father will be at work—maybe. There’s no one home but the ghost of my mother.
“I shouldn’t,” I say, continuing to watch the neighborhood. I try to think of all the reasons I have to say no, but I don’t have any. “Will you take me home after?” I ask, turning to him.
“No. You’ll have to walk.” Cameron looks sideways at me and laughs. “Yes, Savannah. I will take you home whenever you want.”
I nod and go back to watching the passing houses.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When we turn ontohis street, I’m already completely uncomfortable. I’ve never been to this part of town, not even for a doctor’s appointment. This is where celebrities would live if there were any around here. I feel unworthy.
Cameron pulls into a driveway that ends with three garage doors and is attached to a huge house with two-story windows. Cameron cuts the engine.
“Your house?” I ask.
“Yep.”
“It’s nice,” I say as if I’m not at all impressed. I lean forward to look up at it through the windshield. “A bit on the small side.”
“I don’t hear that often,” he says. When I look over he laughs like he’s not just talking about his house. “Are we going inside?” he asks.
I sweep my eyes over the brick front, wondering why he brought me here, wondering why I agreed.
“Sure,” I say, because he was right. I am curious to see where he lives.
Cameron gets out, but I stay in my seat a moment longer, watching him walk around the car and up to the front door. He doesn’t turn around, and I like the ease with which he moves. He belongs here, in a place like this. I don’t.
He leaves the front door open as he walks in, so I figure I might as well follow him. When I get out of the car, I glance around the neighborhood. An old lady walking by with two puffy white dogs waves at me. I freeze. Does she think I live here? Does she really not know her neighbors? I wave back.
“Sutton?” Cameron sings from inside the house. “You’re letting all the heat out.”
I decide to take him up on this adventure, and I walk down the pathway and inside the house.
Holy shit. It’s nice. I close the door and look around at the dark wood floors, leather furniture, and gray painted walls. I feel underdressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I should probably take my shoes off. I hesitate because my socks don’t match, but I don’t want to be rude. I carefully place my sneakers behind the door.
Cameron walks out from what I assume is the kitchen, holding two cans of soda. He looks happy that I’m here, and now that I’m inside his warm house, I sort of feel that way, too. But I don’t want him to know.
“I like your furniture,” I say. Dumb.
“Uh . . . thanks.” He hands me a Coke. Cameron looks down at my mismatched red and blue socks but doesn’t mention them. “Do you want to see the rest of the house?” he asks.
“Showing off?”
“I have a heated pool.” Cameron’s grinning. He can tell that I don’t give a shit that he has a pool, even a heated one. He’s making fun of himself and I think it’s sweet.
