The Ex Files (Ocean View #1)(31)

Because I have lost all sense of who I am.





Fifteen





-Cassie-





When I use Google Maps to check out the address he sends over Friday night, I get my second sign this will not be the typical date I’m used to.

In fact, it’s in a Wawa parking lot.

A convenience store slash gas station parking lot.

And while I love Wawa as much as the next girl, it’s not exactly where I’d envision a date whose intention is to impress me.

But still, I pull up on Saturday morning at 9:55 because I can’t bear to be late and park next to the black truck that’s backed into a spot in the far corner of the lot.

On the roof of the truck is a fountain drink and a pretzel. My mind flits to our first date, then to the surprisingly many text strings we’ve exchanged over the past few days, the daily lunchtime phone calls. Exchanges I don’t normally do with clients, but I decided it was just another chance to learn the ins and out of him. For a future client, of course.

Luke: Favorite gas station snack?

Cassie: Diet Coke and a soft pretzel.

Luke: Bottle or can?

Cassie: Fountain. Always a fountain drink.

And there he stands, leaning against the front of his truck, arms crossing his jacket-covered chest, light jeans leading to the same pair of boots he wore last time.

With a fountain drink and a soft pretzel.

As I pull in, I give him a small wave, and he gives me a smile, dimple on display. When I park, turn off, and step out of my car, he takes me in with a head to toe before looking at his boots and shaking his head with a slight chuckle.

“Couldn’t resist, could you?”

My outfit consists of a body-hugging but warm sweater dress with a small v-neck, chunky jewelry, and a warm trench coat. When I went shopping, strangely energized despite the coffee I never ended up getting, I found the perfect pair of flat, over-the-knee boots that brought the outfit together perfectly. So while I don’t have the benefit of increased height, better posture, and a badass gait, I still have my badass woman armor.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

I look down my body, kicking out my foot to look at the sole. “No heel. I listened.” Instead of replying, he just rolls his eyes at me before throwing a hand out and taking me off guard when the hand hits the dip in my waist and pulls me in. Right in. Right into his chest, where I collide with an oof.

“Not gonna scare me off with your hot girl armor.” I look up at him with, I’m sure, shock on my face. How does he— “Two older sisters and a mom, sweetheart. You’ve never battled with my kind, trained by women who love me but also wanted to make sure I don’t scare off the good ones, leaving them with a shitty sister-in-law they hate.” My eyes widen. He’s got one thing right—I’ve never dealt with his kind.

“Oh.” It’s all I can say, but I don’t need to say anything else because his head is lowering, eyes on my lips, and unconsciously I tip my chin up, giving him better access to… what? Kiss me? It’s the last thing I should allow to happen with the man who I’m essentially interviewing for a position. Nevertheless, my heartbeat quickens, my body tensing in preparation, my lips pressing together just a fraction…

But his lips hit my forehead instead, and goddammit if I don’t feel a crushing level of disappointment I should not be feeling.

“Missed you, sweetheart.” The disappointment fades as a new, different satisfaction takes its place. I stare at him, trying to decode him, to get past the facade to figure out his end game, what his goal is.

And I see absolutely nothing.

Nothing but Lucas.

And that scares me more than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life.

“What are we doing here?” The words come out faint and breathy like I’ve just run a mile, and to be honest, when they come out, I’m not sure what the actual question was. What are we doing here, in this parking lot? What are we doing….

“I’m teaching you to change a tire.”

“What?”

“Tire. You said you keep meaning to learn, right?”

“Yes?” I had told him the first night, with black mascara stains and panic leaking from my pores. I’d told him I didn’t know how to change my stupid flat to the spare, but I’d been meaning to learn. That I was going to the very next day so I wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the road for hours contemplating life and where I’ve gone wrong.

“No better time than now.” I stare at him. “Come on, let’s go.” His hand goes to mine, twining his fingers with mine and pulling me to my trunk. “So your spare and tools are here, in your truck. Pop it for me?” I dig in my pocket and press the button, watching the small trunk pop open and bob once, twice before stilling. Luke lifts it and then shows me a pull tab. “Pull this up, and you’ll see the tire.” I do as he asks before a shout of surprise comes from my mouth

“Oh! Look at that! A whole tire!” Luke laughs, his second, booming laugh.

“Yeah, sweetheart, and see there? That’s the wrench and the jack. Grab those first. We’ll practice on your rear tire.” I grab the tools and place them on the ground. “Okay, so first you’re taking this to loosen the nuts.” He hands me a heavy piece of cold metal. I examine it, noting the sockets at the end before looking at him.