Page 23 of Under My Skin

“Whatever. Did you call just to badger me?”

“No. I called to check on you after last night since you never texted or called me. How’d it go with Cam?”

“It was fine. He drove me home and gave me some cream for my bruise. That’s it,” I lie.

“Seriously? He didn’t make a move? He seemed totally into you and all possessive. To be honest, it was hot.”

I quickly weigh my options, but I know that if I tell her the truth, she’ll freak out.

“Nope,” I say in a deadpan tone.

“Wow. Okay. Well, I’m sorry, Liz. That sucks.” She sounds confused and heartbroken for me, and it makes me feel bad for not telling her the truth. “Do you want me to grab dinner and come over for a girls’ night? We can badmouth stupid boys.”

“It’s fine. Really.” I look at the time and realize it’s so much later than I thought it was. “I’m going to shower and head over to my parents’ house for dinner.”

“Alright.”

“Wait! How did the meeting with your advisor go?”

“It was good. Just went over what I’m going to be taking in the fall. Met some my professors over video. All boring stuff.”

She seems off while she’s talking about it, but I chalk it up to nerves over starting a graduate program.

“I’m glad. You’re going to kill it, you know. You’re the smartest person I know.”

“Thanks, girl. Don’t forget I’m here if you need me,” she says before hanging up.

I take a deep breath, grateful that I got away with that. Usually, Lia figures me out right away.

I let myself stare at Cameron for another minute and then force myself to walk away. That’s enough torture for one day.

I clean up, take another shower, and briefly consider cooking something and just turning in early. But I think I need some of my mom’s cooking. It always makes everything better. So I make the short trek next door and immediately smell tomatoes, onion, and garlic wafting out the front windows. I smile and internally pat myself on the back for picking tonight to be lazy.

I throw the front door open and head toward the kitchen.

“Everything smells amazing, Mom. I hope you don’t mind one more for dinner.”

“What are you talking about, sweetie?” My mom gives me a confused look before continuing. “I was expecting you. We’re hosting the Dylans for dinner tonight. I texted you earlier and told you not to wear pajamas.” She looks me up and down, and I inwardly cringe. I should have checked my messages. It may not be pajamas, but it is leggings and an oversized T-shirt with an astronaut cat on it—and it has definitely seen better days.

“Oh.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to think of an excuse so I won’t have to face Cameron tonight. “Well, why don’t I head home then? To be honest, I’m not really that hungry anyway.” I start to turn and walk away, but my mom grabs my hand and turns me back to her.

“First of all, Lizzie, you’re a horrible liar. I know for a fact that you were working all day in your studio and forgot to eat lunch. Plus, you would never turn down lasagna and garlic bread. Second, I know you get a little shy in front of Cam because of that teenage crush you had, but he’s our neighbor again, and there will be a lot of shared meals in our future that you’re not going to get out of.”

I wince at the crush comment but decide to take this opportunity to just face him and get it over with. “You’re right, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“Wait, I’m not finished yet. Third, those little girls already have a soft spot for you. All they were concerned about when I was talking to their daddy was if you were going to be here tonight.” She lets go of my hand and gives me her stern mom look. “And you, Elizabeth Jean Montgomery, are not going to disappoint those girls by pulling a disappearing act. Am I clear?”

“Oh my gosh, Mom. When did you turn into a tyrant?” I laugh and give her a hug, but I’m still on high alert after she full-named me. “Of course I’m going to stay for dinner. Would you like me to go home and change?”

Before she can answer, my dad walks into the kitchen and wraps me in a hug. “No need, Lizzie girl. You’re beautiful in everything you wear, and there’s no need to impress anyone.”

“Thanks, Dad.” My voice comes out muffled as he hugs me back.

“Why don’t you guys set the table while I finish making the salad? They should be here any minute,” Mom says with her back turned to us.

As my dad and I are grabbing plates, silverware, cups, and napkins, I’m internally freaking out about seeing Cameron. I thought I would have more time to prepare myself before facing him again, even though he made it very clear in his note that last night was a mistake that he has no intention of repeating.

Maybe I don’t need to impress anyone, but part of me is wishing I was wearing a sexy outfit to make him reconsider that decision. To make him realize I’m sorry for my reaction and I wish I could take it back.

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