The Ex Files (Ocean View #1)(53)

“Grandma’s making pancakes,” I say, even though I don’t know it as fact. If I ask my mom to make pancakes, a stack will be on the table within the hour.

“PANCAKES!” she shouts the words, nearly bursting my eardrum before I put her down with a smile as my sister Quinn walks in.

And the chaos begins.





Twenty-Three





-Cassie-





The drive back from Luke’s parent’s house is quiet as I take in everything that happened. I never ended up going into the office today, instead texting Gabi and telling her to go home whenever. Between the chaos of yesterday and today’s excitement, I’m too frazzled for work.

Breakfast was wonderful. Luke’s niece is adorable, his mom sweet as can be, and his sister, Quinn, was fun, making sure I didn’t leave without her putting her number in my cell. It seems I’m racking up new friends and expanding my contact list, hanging out with Luke.

The entire breakfast was full of laughter, friendly teasing, and family. It’s clear they’re incredibly close-knit, a family who actually enjoys spending time together instead of it being a chore. It’s refreshing to see.

It’s also terrifying. It’s clear this is what Luke wants—what he deserves. It’s just another reason this would never work between us past our arrangement. This isn’t my life. I can’t offer anything like this to him.

“What’s going on in your head?”

“What?”

“In your head. You’re a million miles away.” I sigh. Of course I am. How could I not be? His family is… his family is perfect. And I’m going to be dragging him into my family’s chaos not long from now. And then he’ll know.

“I just… I was thinking.”

“This doesn’t sound good. Maybe you should stop thinkin’.” He looks at me, moving his eyes from the road to me for a split second. I roll my eyes at him.

“It’s just… I don’t know. I was thinking… Maybe I should just—”

“No.”

“What?”

“No.”

“I didn’t even finish what I was saying.”

“You don’t have to. It’s stupid.” His eyes are still locked to the road, his brow furrowed in frustration.

“Excuse me?”

“I said it’s stupid.”

“That’s rude!”

“Were you about to tell me not to come with you to your dad’s wedding?” How does he know these things?

“It’s just….” My finger runs over the tan bandage of the wrap Kerry put on me. “Your family is awesome. Your parents are adorable. So in love. My family… they’re a mess.”

“Didn’t grow up in a bubble. I know not everyone is as lucky as I am. What my parents have? It’s a miracle. To meet young, raise kids, go through hard times and good times and come out on top. I had friends, saw their families fall apart. Look at Chris. Tanner’s girl, Jordan? She had it crazy rough. I’m lucky. I know that.” He continues before I can say any more. “I want that. Yes. Of course. I want the dream. But I also know it’s not handed to you. You need to work for it. Your history, your past, your family? Make you who you are. It made those walls you built, but it doesn’t mean you can’t have something beautiful.” My breath hitches with his words, with the meaning. But I don’t have to decode them, don’t have to guess.

“You give me the chance, Cass, I’d kill to show you how beautiful life can be when you let your walls down, when you let people in.” His eyes are still on the road which I’m thankful for. I couldn’t handle meeting them right now. But there’s so much vulnerable emotion in his voice…

And then, for some reason, I’m crying.

Not cute, lady-like cries or a single rolling tear, but huge, body-wracking sobs. Looking over at me, confusion and worry cross his face, and he instantly hits the hazard lights button, pulling his truck over to the shoulder before slamming it into park. Then I’m unbuckled and dragged across the seats until I’m cradled in his lap, crying into his shirt.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? I didn’t mean anything. I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“It’s not you, I just…”

“What?”

“I wish I could have this. I wish this was in the cards for me.” Without asking more questions, as if he knows he won’t get anywhere with me, as if he knows all I need is for him to hold me, he does it, running a hand down my hair and rubbing my back until my tears slow, my body slack from the emotional release.

“You’re going to get it when you meet my family. Get how we live in completely different universes. You deserve more.“ Once again, it’s like he knows no argument he gives will change my mind. No words at this moment are enough to help this mess I’ve gotten myself into.

“We’re going to be fine. It’s going to be fine,” he says quietly under his breath, and I’m not sure who he’s speaking to—himself or me.

He might be right. It will be fine. The wedding will probably just be another day that’s nothing more than a nuisance. But I still can’t help but wonder if after these two weeks… will I be just fine? Or will I be irreparably damaged?