A firm believer in "Exes can be friends," Chassie Lewis has proven everyone thinking otherwise wrong. For almost four years now, she's been happily divorced from her ex-husband, Nathaniel Forester. The sparks had flown and crashed between them a lon...
"But what about that one time on my birthday?" He asks, his voice muffled.
Nathan laughs across the table. Another first. "Chassie, let him tell."
"No." I give him a stern look.
He just smirked at me. "Don't mind mommy, Ethan. Tell the story."
Ethan clutches my wrist with both hands and tugged it away from his mouth. "Mommy wanted to make me a homemade chocolate cake for my birthday."
I wanted to put my hand back to his mouth, but when I saw his blue eyes brightened like sunshine, I couldn't have the heart to stomp on the best story of his life.
Ethan tells with his hands. And by that, I mean he's telling the story with dramatic gestures of his cute hands. I peer over to Sydney whose attention was on him, her smile appearing strained.
Even then, the nudges on my foot hadn't stopped. I retorted with some vengeful nudges of my own. I glare at him, urging him to stop.
He just sat back and answered with a slow grin.
My stomach fluttered.
"What happened to the cake though?" Sydney cooed.
"We couldn't eat it. It was burned. All of it," Ethan replies with a proud, toothy grin.
Nathan laughed loudly at that. Except his foot did another jab on mine.
I took my phone out of my pocket and texted him to stop. His phone was already in his hand. There's no telling if he got my message because it hadn't pinged. He glances briefly at it, then gives me another nudge.
I typed out another text. Stop it already. This is embarrassing.
Nathan's thumbs made a quick work on his phone.
I glanced down to his message. You're no fun.
You're being rude to your girlfriend, I typed back. The message had already been sent before I could think. My first instinct was to jump over the table and grab his phone. Which is downright ridiculous.
Nathan looks down to his phone. His brows drew together.
Crap!
My heart hammered in my chest as he types on his phone. I waited. And then waited some more. My gut knotted; my lunch threatened to lurch back to my mouth.
Finally, my phone buzzes with Nathan's message. Girl friend. Space between the words.
Deep inside, I was melting in relief. Before slipping into a writing rut, it had never come up. I didn't know it would have mattered so much now.
"Daddy, I have to go to the bathroom." Ethan jerked me back from my whirlwind of thoughts.
"I'll take you, baby." I put my phone back to my purse.
Nathan is already on his feet, walking over to our side of the table. "It's okay. I got this." He winks.
"Oh. Okay." I smiled, hoping the warmth on my cheeks were not from blushing.
They walk hand in hand. Somehow, Nathan looked younger. So boyishly charming it stirred the teenage girl in me. Then my back turned iron steel as I realized what I was seeing.
I'm seeing my old Nathan. Nathan from all those happy years ago.
"Aren't they a cute pair?" Sydney stares after them.
I blink. "The cutest." I hear myself say.
She turns all the way to me. I noticed her smile grew slightly pinched. "Chassie, I was hoping I could talk to you."
"Oh. About what?"
She clasps her hands primly on the table. "About me and Nathan."
Words don't weigh, but I definitely felt a slap.
"I hope we're not making you uncomfortable. We're casual friends." Sydney gives her hair another fluff. She peers down on her perfectly polished fingernail. When her brown gaze came back to me, they stripped themselves of their warm welcome.
A lump barricade my throat.
"Nathan and I are casual friends, hoping to build a relationship out of friendship." Sydney Williams smiles. There was nothing friendly about it. Her eyes were pure ice. Cold and hard.
It's not the look of a woman who wants to make amends. It was "the look" of the woman staking the claim on her man.
Jessica's words echoed in my head.
Passive-aggressive? Check.
Lying bitch? I'm gonna have to find out.
Book 4
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Once upon a time, Kylie Preston had a semi-exciting life. Until her spitfire attitude sparked the interest of notorious playboy, Christian Parkinson. And no matter how many times he was rebuffed, his flowers made it to her desk every single day. Although a cocky nuisance, his persistence advances him past her defenses. And then slowly, but surely, she finds herself stepping out of those defenses.
