The Ex by Freida McFadden(54)

Our teacher is a woman named Oksana with an East European accent. She’s wearing a skintight black shirt and short skirt and has a tiny, perfect body. I wouldn’t have blamed Dean for checking her out, but he doesn’t. He keeps his dark eyes focused on me as we stand facing each other, awaiting further instructions.

“Now, ladies!” Oksana barks at us. Wow, she has a loud voice for someone so tiny. “Put your left hand on your partner’s shoulder and hold his hand with your right.”

I step toward Dean. God, he smells nice. And the way he’s smiling at me is making it slightly hard to breathe. I put my left hand on his shoulders, feeling his firm muscles under my palm—he must work out. My right hand slides into his. His hand is large and warm in mine—touching him makes my heart beat faster.

“Men!” Oksana says. “You put your right hand on your partner’s back.”

And now his hand is on my back, warm against the thin fabric of my shirt. We are so close right now. I can see the dark hairs of his five o’clock shadow. Our eyes meet briefly and he winks at me.

God, he’s really sexy.

Oksana strides over to the stereo and flicks on a song. Every night, I hope and pray, a dream lover will take me away…

“Now,” Oksana announces, “we learn to cha cha cha.”

Dean wasn’t joking—he’s not a great dancer. He doesn’t have a natural sense of rhythm, but he’s trying really hard. He’s counting the beats under his breath to keep in time with the music. But at the same time, we’re having a great time. I wouldn’t have thought ballroom dancing lessons could be this fun.

“One… two… three…” he recites to himself.

I giggle. “You are such a nerd.”

“Of course I am,” he says. “I’m a cardiologist. We’re all nerds. But at least I’m a cool nerd.”

“What makes you cool?”

Dean reaches out his arm and spins me. “I like hip hop music. Is that cool?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I have a Twitter account. I’ve forgotten the password, but I’ve got it.”

“Not cool.”

“I’ve got a tattoo.”

I lean my head back so I can look at his face. “Do you really?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Where is it?”

“Ah.” He grins at me. “Now, that’s a secret. You’ll have to go out with me again to find out.”

“Sorry then,” I say. “I’m still not convinced you’re cool.”

“How about this?” He leans forward slightly so that I can smell the mint on his breath. “I am a fantastic kisser.”

“Well, that’s what you say…”

“That is God’s honest truth.” His eyes meet mine. “I’d be happy to prove it to you if you’d like.”

“Maybe,” I say enigmatically. And he winks at me.

For the entire rest of the class, all I can think about is kissing him. The way he’s looking at me, I suspect he feels the same way. We manage to fumble through the last twenty minutes, then he asks me if I want to go grab a bite to eat.

“That would be great,” I tell him. “I’m starving.”

“Anything in particular you like?”

“Anything is fine.”

Except when I get outside, I realize I wore the wrong shoes for a two-hour dance class. Blisters have formed on my toes and every step has become painful. I don’t want to seem like a wuss though, so I don’t say anything. Physical pain is easy to deal with.

“You okay?” Dean squints at me at the end of the first block.

“Yeah, fine.”

“You’re limping.”

He caught me. “My feet are killing me,” I admit. “But… I want to go with you to eat.”

He takes a step back, looking me over thoughtfully. Then he turns so his back is facing me. “Okay, hop on.”

I laugh. “What?”

“Your feet hurt, and it’s another three blocks.”

“You don’t have to carry me!”

“I want to.”

“I’m not light, you know.”

“Are you suggesting I’m not strong enough to carry you?”

I remember the feel of his tight muscles under his shirt when I had my hand on his arm. He’s perfectly capable of carrying me. “Okay, fine.”

So he does. I ride on his back the rest of the way to the restaurant. He barely grunts as he lifts me—this guy is strong. At some point, I lean my head against his back. This could be one of the nicest nights I’ve ever had.

When we get to the restaurant, Dean lowers me carefully to the ground. My feet throb as they touch the ground, but it’s not too bad. I’ll be fine as long as I’m not walking anymore.

“Thank you,” I say.

“My pleasure,” he says.





Chapter 34: The New Girl


Cassie is dreading going out to dinner with Lydia and Pete. She’s hinted to Joel multiple times that Lydia is not her favorite person, but she suspects that’s part of the reason he set up the dinner. Pete is his best friend, and he wants them to all get along.