The Ex Files (Ocean View #1)(74)

“Didn’t say you can’t do it. Just said you’re not going to.”

“That’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid is me standing here in the cold, arguing with you about dumb ass shit instead of getting you back to my place so we can talk and I can peel you out of that dress I’ve been dreaming about since I found you on the side of the road.” I sit there blinking at him.

“What?”

“That dress. You were wearing it that night you had the flat.” I look at him, confused.

“It was dark that night.”

“Not that dark.”

“It was pitch black, Luke.”

“Trust me, babe. Nothing is too dark to see your body in that dress.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” He smiles at me, the enduring smile he gives me when I’m arguing but he thinks it’s cute.

“Are you a man?”

“No.”

“Then it won’t make sense. But trust me.” And I do because I was, in fact, wearing this dress that day. On the way here, I briefly thought I’d either have this dress bronzed or burned, depending on the night’s outcome. I’m leaning towards bronzed, but I’m still not totally sure. “Now get out, Cass. Let me drive, and we’ll get back sooner.” I want to argue. I do. But I’ve learned since I’ve met this man, sometimes it’s not worth arguing with him. Luke Dawson is the definition of ‘pick your battles.’

“Okay, Luke,” I say before he helps me out, walks me around to the passenger side, and helps me into the car before shutting me in and jogging around to the driver’s side. And then we’re off on a silent drive to his place, where my mind continues to reel.





Thirty-Five





-Luke-





Walking into my apartment, I wonder if maybe we should have gone to Cassie’s normally pristine place. While it isn’t a disaster, breakfast dishes are in the sink, and a bag of laundry that needs to be taken to the cleaners sits near the door. The blanket for the couch is askew, pillows my mom insisted I needed tossed around. “Sorry for the mess,” I say, locking the door as she hangs her coat on the hook like she belongs here, like this place is as much hers as it is mine. Because it is.

“God, trust me, my place is a total disaster. This is much better.” I furrow my brow at her.

“You’re a neat freak.”

“Yeah, well, the last week or so had been a bit… trying. Cleaning hasn’t been on my radar at all.” She looks around, anywhere but at me, but her words bring a sick joy to me. Joy she’s been as much of a mess as I have.

“You messed up over me, Cass?” I say, walking to her and pulling her into me. My arms go around her waist and she holds herself close to her body like she wants me to wrap her up and protect her. I will. Every part of her.

“I was so wrong.” It’s all she says, but I know.

“You were trying to keep yourself safe.” One of my hands comes up to move a hair from in front of her face. I don’t even mean to, muscle memory kicking in as I tuck it behind her ear.

“But you never gave me any reason not to think you wouldn’t do everything in your power to keep my heart safe.”

“Old wounds go deep.”

“Stop making excuses for me!” She slaps my chest with a hand, but I grab it, holding it to my heart.

“I was crazy. So mad. So angry you wouldn’t even try, wouldn’t even put yourself in the position to try it with me. I was mad, Cass. Then I got that email from Gabrielle and I lost it. I was a dick. I proved you right in some ways, showing parts of me I’m not proud of. I’ve got a temper. You know that; you’ve seen it. But it should never be directed at you, ever. Ever Cassie. You had your reasons for being careful.”

“You had your reasons for being hurt.”

“Cassie, I am a grown-ass man with feelings and perspective. With knowledge of what I’m working with, of whom I need to work with. You? Those wounds? It’s the little girl in you, a hurt little girl with a temper masking the fact she is absolutely scared to death another person will let her down. It’s not about men being shitheads, Cass. Yeah, that’s a part of it. Your dad’s a fuckup and fucked around, and you’ve seen some assholes, but that’s not it. It’s your mom who chose her own misery over helping you live your life. It’s your fuckwad of a dad who chose his dick over giving his little girl everything she needed to be confident and glowing and beautiful inside and out. It’s your asshole friends who you opened your heart to, gave everything to, only for them to get married and have kids and leave you behind because you were too busy making other’s dreams come true to make your own life a fairytale. And somehow, despite all of that, you’re the most beautiful person I know. You’re kind and generous, a friend to everyone. You make me laugh, and you try to act mad when I do dumb shit, but you don’t hold it against me. Watching you with Bella? Made me want to give you that, give you the world.” The hand holding hers lets go to brush a tear from her eye.

“I set up that date out of spite. I was a dick about it. I shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong, and the whole thing made me sick. It lasted about six hours. I called Tara and told her, then she dragged Quinn here to yell at me, talk some sense into me. You won Mom and Quinn over, by the way. And Tara, I’d assume.” She blushes. “I sent a text to Maya the next morning, called it off. She was going to make a call to Gabi, tell her about it, but I guess she didn’t do that?” Cassie shakes her head. “I was going to cancel my reservation, but there was a cancellation charge, so I asked Tara if she wanted to go. That’s why I was there. That’s it, I promise. We were actually working on a plan to win you over, get you to listen to me.”