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The Ex(79)

Author:Freida McFadden

“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.

Fat chance. But fine, she’ll try.

Lydia picks the restaurant, which is a French place on the west side. Cassie has never eaten French food in her entire life. Unless French fries count, which she suspects they don’t. She takes a peek at the menu online and her heart skips a beat when she sees the prices. She can’t even pretend to offer to pay.

“Listen, Joel…” Cassie rubs her nose in the taxi on the way to the restaurant and sniffles loudly. “I’m feeling kind of sick. Maybe I shouldn’t go. I don’t want to infect them.”

He rolls his eyes. “Nice try, Cassie. Come on, it won’t be that bad.”

In response, Cassie tugs at her skirt. This one is black and falls below her knees, but she’s still worried it’s too short and Lydia will find a way to belittle her. Although even if she were wearing the perfect outfit, Lydia would still find a way.

The French restaurant is one of those hole-in-the-wall places that you might miss if you didn’t know exactly where it was. The cab deposits them right in front, and Cassie feels like a woman walking to her own execution as she heads to the door. It doesn’t even help when Joel takes her hand. Well, it helps a little.

Lydia and Pete are already sitting at a table in the back of the French restaurant when they arrive, although the place is so dark, it’s hard to tell. The lighting is mostly by candle—their table has three candles on it of varying heights. But Cassie is still able to see Lydia’s stunning light blue dress that perfectly complements her skin tone.

Pete offers a crooked smile as he rubs at his already messy dirty blond hair. The first two buttons on his shirt collar are undone, and Cassie suspects those two buttons are driving Lydia crazy. “Good to see you again, Cassie.”

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