The Ex Files (Ocean View #1)(18)

“Andrew,” I answer. “The Jock. He said it to the Nerd.” Ben nods.

“Yeah, write that, Jordan,” he says, agreeing with me.

“No, you’re wrong,” Cassie says, and I look at her. She’s smiling at me with a ‘you’re a dumbass, and I’m going to prove it’ face, and it’s adorable.

“What?”

“It was Bender. Judd Nelson. He was arguing with Mr. Vernon. Beginning of the movie.”

“I don’t think you’re right.”

“Trust me, I am. My mom made me watch every Molly Ringwald movie at least one hundred times when I was a kid. I can recite the entire movie from memory.” She blushes, the color overtaking her tan skin, and even though she’s embarrassed, she holds firm.

“Go with Cassie’s answer, Princess,” Tanner tells his girl, and I’m thankful. Even if she’s wrong, she looks pleased to have her answer written down.

“Okay, time’s up, boards up!” the announcer shouts as a buzzer goes off. “The answer was ‘Bender in The Breakfast Club’! Team Masterminds seems to be the only one with the full answer and wins!” Everyone around us cheers, exuberance infectious as Cassie throws her hands in the air and jumps, her tits jumping in that tight black and white dress, hair flying everywhere. Gone is the uptight matchmaker from earlier, and in her place is a gorgeous woman who is ecstatic her team won.

At that moment, I make my decision.

I’m going to keep her.

I’m going to keep this woman.

Fuck her matching me up.

That spark flared last night. After spending a night across from her, watching her get frustrated with me when I wouldn’t play her game, I watched her guard fall—tiny bits at a time. As I watched her interact with my friends, watching her slowly relax, that spark spread, catching first on the tinder and burning to a warm blaze.

I just need her to realize that she’s burning up, too.





Nine





-Cassie-





“You’re not driving home,” he says as we walk down the street toward where we parked. Tonight was… fun. It’s a surprise when I allow the words to pop into my mind. Fun.

God, when was the last time I had fun? The last time I enjoyed myself and had a good time.

When had my life gotten so boring?

“Why am I so boring?” The words tumble from me in a rush before I slap my hand over my mouth like I’ve revealed a secret I’ve held in for too long. However, something tells me this isn’t a secret to anyone but me. He laughs at my faux pas before untwining his fingers with mine and moving them to my waist to pull me to him. The distinctive heat from all five fingers burns through the fabric to my skin.

“You’re boring?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“You didn’t seem very boring tonight.” That’s sweet of him to say.

“That’s sweet of you to say.” Why does my voice sound like that? Breathy and… adoring. Shit. Am I drunk? “Am I drunk?” Once again, the words in my brain seem to have a direct path to my mouth as they spew out without hitting a filter.

“I think you might be, sweetheart,” he says with a gleaming smile on his face.

“You have a nice smile.” Well, at least this time, I didn’t think it first, the words bypassing any kind of brainwaves before slipping out. “I didn’t mean to say that.” He looks at me as we walk, the handsome smile growing. “Well, I did. It is nice. But I didn’t mean to say it out loud. To you.”

“Ahh, got it. Watch your step.” He gently guides me around a crack in the sidewalk, and I semi-recognize where we are as we walk toward the Thai restaurant and nearby parking lot.

“This is not how this goes. At all.”

“What goes?”

“Dates.”

“I haven’t been on too many dates, but I think ending it with a pretty, tipsy woman in your arms is exactly how it goes.”

“Not my kind of dates.”

“Sounds like your kind of dates suck.”

“They do.” He laughs again. “Shit, no, they don’t. They’re great.” I try to recover, to remember my professionalism and why we’re actually here. “I love my job.”

“What do you love about it?” Again, the words tumble before I can stop them.

“Helping women avoid the inevitable.”

“What’s inevitable?”

“Seemingly great men showing their true colors.” His pace slows, and he’s looking at me, waiting for more. “It’s not that women don’t lie too.” I’ve been doing this long enough to know that’s the next part of his interrogation. When I reveal the true intention of The Ex Files, it always seems that men, usually the ones with something to hide, if I’m honest, start to rail on me about double standards. And they’re not wrong. Women lie all the time. About their weight and if they like something and if the casserole their coworker brought in is tasty. But... “But men are better at it. Men can keep it up for like… ever.”

“Who hid it from you?” Even in my drunken state, I don’t give it all away. I never give it all away.

“When I was in college, I had a friend, came to school a virgin. She was saving herself, you know? A dangerous game, if you ask me. Saving yourself for some kind of knight in shining armor. Anyway, freshman year, she started dating some guy, a senior. Gave us all the ick, but we couldn’t talk her out of it. So she gave it to him. She found out the whole thing had been a bet with his frat a week later. Like an even shittier version of She’s All That. She dropped out that semester never came back to school. It broke her. Men can do that. Trick a woman into losing themselves and then break them.”