The Ex Files (Ocean View #1)(45)

“That’s a dumb rule.”

“It keeps men interested.” My rules have been crafted from research, psychology journals, and studying what works and what gets a girl ghosted. They work. But they’re not for women to share with men, so I’m not sure why I keep revealing all of my rules to him.

“You don’t need to do anything to keep me interested, sweetheart. You’re all I can think about.” My brain is floating in a sea of endorphins and confusion. “So, what do you think? Can we meet tonight? Dinner or dessert?”

“I can’t. I’m going out with Gabi tonight.”

“Gabi?”

“My assistant. I mean, friend. Assistant.” This man ties my tongue more than anything, and now Gabi is looking at me like she knows what’s happening and she’s amused. I lift a hand and flip her off, making her laugh out loud. “She’s my assistant and my friend.”

“Ah, so you need to gossip with her about our weekend together.” Our weekend together. Just those words send a shiver down my spine, memories flooding my mind with the sultry tone.

“What? No, no, not at all. That would be unprofessional.”

“Sweetheart, we are anything but professional. What’s it going to take for you to realize that?” I’m silent on my end as those words sink in, words he keeps saying over and over in slightly different ways. “Okay, I’ll let you go; my lunch is just about over. Don’t forget to tell Gabi about when I bent you over the couch and ate your sweet cunt, okay? Because I know I’ll be daydreaming about it myself.” A heated flush runs through me, pooling in my center as he laughs, deep and sexy, before hanging up. I sit with the phone to my ear before I move it from my face.

What have I gotten myself into?





“Okay, let’s go,” I say. It’s only three-thirty, but I’ve decided I absolutely need a drink and to get all of this off my chest. Partly because I’ve been staring at my computer screen nearly all day and accomplishing absolutely nothing. Partly because I just received a text from Luke.

Luke: Hope the rest of your day is going well.

Between this sweet check-in text and the calling me on his lunch, I need another woman’s insight. I need to dump everything into someone else’s lap. It’s not something I’ve ever really had a chance to do, and I probably shouldn’t be doing it with an employee, but somehow over the past few weeks, despite her working for me for a year, Gabi has become my closest friend.

I’m not sure if that makes me lucky or if it’s super embarrassing.

Probably both,

“Go where?”

“I don’t care. Somewhere where we can drink and I can dish.” I stand, grabbing my things and starting to throw them into my bag. I don’t have a date again until Wednesday, thankfully. I don’t think I could dissect another man with this one still on my mind.

“Want to head to a liquor store and then eat take out at my place?” I look at her with a smile before nodding. “I’ll drive.”





An hour later and a glass of wine each, I’m sitting on Gabi’s comfy-as-can-be couch in her boho-chic apartment on the other side of town, avoiding her eyes.

“That’s it, we’re here, we have wine, so you can spill.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“At the beginning.”

“Which beginning?” I say with a laugh, and I might be insane because while I’m laughing, I also kind of feel like crying. What is going on with me?

“Oh, Cassie, no! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push!” she says, setting her glass aside and coming closer before I wave her off. I sniff, gathering myself quickly and shaking my head.

“I feel insane.”

“Why?”

“This man is driving me crazy.”

“Men tend to do that.”

“Not to me,” I say, and I mean it. I haven’t truly dated since college. I tried after the fiasco with my dad, but after a few tries with college boys who only cared about one thing, I gave up. Why put yourself through that when all men bring are drama and heartbreak?

“Okay, maybe let’s start there? Why are you never dating? You’re gorgeous and smart. You could easily get a man. Or a woman, whatever.”

I hesitate. “I don’t know. This is so embarrassing.”

“You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” My head shoots back and my eyebrows raise before Gabi laughs so hard tears stream down her face.

“Oh, my God. Your face! No, you dummy. It’s a saying. You really are uptight. It means you tell me your drama and I’ll tell you mine.” As she says the words, she plays with the frayed knee of her jeans, and it’s clear it makes her nervous. My sweet, headstrong assistant has something she wants to tell me about. But only if I share mine.

So I do. I tell her more about my dad and his leaving my mom. About how it affected me, about how it’s why I don’t date, why I vet men. How I don’t need that drama in my life, how my friends all got married and drifted off, and then I was left alone, just me. Me and my business.

And I told her about Luke. About meeting him on the side of the road and the way my stomach jumped, seeing him at the restaurant and the 20 questions. About how he was the first date who was actually interested in me as a person, not in impressing me. About his friends and them welcoming me. About trivia night and the texts and the calls on his lunch. About him really truly learning about me and maybe even liking me.