Page 2 of Faking It with My Bossy Ex

“It’s fine. I’ll wait for the next person to come along.” I’m not accepting help from Dylan. The love of my life in college and in high school, the man I thought I’d marry and spend the rest of my life with. Also, the man who broke my heart and threw everything we had away as if it never mattered.

He pulls forward, parking in front of my car. Of course, he’s not going to listen. I used to love his bossy side. I consider begging him to leave, not that it would make a difference.

He steps out of the car and stuffs his hands into his jeans as he saunters over. He’s wearing a black winter coat that almost reaches his knees, accentuating his sharp jaw and wide shoulders.

I draw in a sharp breath.

Stop it. Focus. A shudder of breath runs through me.

Seeing him up close reminds me of just how gorgeous he is. The last eight years haven’t hurt him one bit. He looks even better than I remember. I wonder if Clara thinks so too, if she still gets to see him. Losing him nearly broke me, but finding him with my nemesis so soon after our break up destroyed me.

Are they still together? Or maybe he broke up with her too, moving on to thousands of others. With a face like that, I'm sure he's had no shortage of options.

“So, what seems to be the trouble?” He asks in that low timbre that makes my insides shake.

“I said it’s fine. I’ve already called someone. They won’t be long.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but anything to keep him away from me will work at this point. This whole situation is absurd. When I accepted the position to help with Snowfall Spring’s biggest fundraiser ever, I checked every detail and read every guest list.

What is he doing here?

“You’re no better at lying now than you were the last time I saw you,” he smiles knowingly. “Besides, I was on the phone about five minutes ago, and the call dropped because of no service.”

Embarrassment heats my cheeks, but I decide to ignore his accusation.

“So, I’ll walk back about twenty minutes and then call someone. I don’t need your help, Dylan.” My voice shakes. So much for sounding in control. Eight years. Eight years since I last saw his face, heard his voice. Eight years since everything fell apart.

I thought I knew him. The reformed playboy who looked at me like I was his whole world. We had plans, dreams, a futuremapped out together. Then, out of nowhere, he shattered it all. Maybe I never really understood him at all.

“You’re not staying here on the side of the road.” He steps closer, and the warm scent of cedar tickles my nose. How is it legal to be so intoxicating?

“You’re not walking anywhere, and I’m not leaving you with a broken down car.” He glances toward my open hood. “You’re going to Snowfall Springs?”

“Yes.” I cover my mouth to stop myself, but it’s too late.

Why on earth did I just admit where I’m going?

“I’m heading that way myself. We’ll have a tow truck deal with your car later.”

“I am not riding with you. And there is no we.” I take a step back, needing distance, air, anything to clear my head. Does he really think he can boss me around like that? And why did it have to be Dylan, of all people? I’m almost wishing for the imaginary kidnapper with the warm trunk.

He sighs, and the sound twists something inside of me.

Dylan makes his way to the front of my car, his jacket stretching taut across his back as he peers under the hood. His brow furrows in concentration, and his muscles flex as his arm movesdeftly among the parts. After a few minutes of tinkering, he shakes his head, his expression turning smug.

“There’s nothing I can do to fix your car, Amy.” He straightens and comes back to the side of the car with me.

“Then keep on going and I’ll deal with it.” My racing heart betrays me. I trace the sharp line of his cheekbones and the familiar curve of his lips with my eyes. My fingers itch to brush back that wayward lock of hair falling across his forehead.

Fixing cars might as well be rocket science to me, and Snowfall Springs feels impossibly far away. Do the benefits of some help and a warm ride outweigh the danger of being around Dylan?

If there's one man I can't let myself fall for, it's him.

“Would you seriously rather freeze to death, or have some creepy stranger catch you out here alone just because you dislike me?” he asks.

Dylan is as calm as can be, as if running into exes is just another Tuesday for him.

“That depends. Will the creepy stranger give me a ride to Snowfall Springs?” I square my shoulders and his expression darkens.

“Amy …” He holds out his hand. “Give me your keys.”

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