Page 16 of Exes and Oh Hell No

“You okay?” His voice is laced with amusement, but there’s concern in his eyes.

I nod frantically, face on fire. “Yeah. Yes.” I clear my throat. “I just… forgot how to swallow.”

Oh. My. God.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Did someone lace my drink with truth serum?

His lips twitch. “That’s unfortunate.”

His hand lingers, still tracing slow, lazy circles down my spine. My traitorous body leans into it, the warmth sinking into my skin.

“Thanks,” I mumble, still mortified.

I wipe my mouth with a napkin, shaking my head. “I’m making adamnfool of myself tonight.”

Ford takes a swig of his beer, smirking. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’snot.” I straighten my shoulders, trying to salvage what little dignity I have left. “I swear, I’m a competent, graceful person.”

His brow arches, completely unconvinced.

I sigh. “Fine. I’m competent at my job with a side of clumsy.”

His smile spreads wider, and it’s like being hit with a beam of sunlight. “I like the clumsiness. It’s cute.”

I blink. “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, taking a drink of his beer. “Familiar.”

My heart stumbles.

I snatch my drink and take a sip—carefully this time—focusing very hard on not choking again.

“I guess I’ll never outgrow it,” I mutter, twirling my glass between my fingers. “But I am good at my job.”

“I’m sure you are.” His eyes flint with curiosity. “What do you do?”

Before I can answer, the cashier yells Ford’s name.

He turns toward the counter. “Hold that thought. Our food’s ready.”

He strides away, and my traitorous, thirsty eyes immediately drop to his ass.

I don’t even try to stop myself.

He looks over his shoulder at me, his smirk slow and smug, catching me in the act.

Shit.

Busted.

I drop my gaze to the table, pretending to be very interested in my napkin.

A moment later, he sets the tray of food down, sliding the plate containing my wings and potato skins before I can even reach for them, just like he always used to.

Like muscle memory.

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