Page 4 of I Wish He Would

“A delicious one.” I take another sip of my drink.

“You know what I always say.” Susan reaches over and boops Mike’s nose. “A moment on the lips.”

“A lifetime on the hips,” Mike finishes.

I take a deep breath while Tracy shoots me a sympathetic look. “I’ll get your order in right away.”

Thank goodness for Tracy.

When she walks away, Mike raises his wine glass of apple juice and swirls it around under his nose before deeply inhaling like he’s a connoisseur of juice de là apples. He takes a sip and dramatically smacks his lips before finally saying, “That’s a good one. Definitely not your average juice box.”

A laugh escapes my mouth before I can stop it. I grab my napkin and hold it over my mouth, attempting to hide my outburst with a fake cough.

Susan turns to me with a grin that looks just as fake. “You really should get that cough checked out, dear.” She swirls her wine in the exact same motion as Mike did his juice. Even their mannerisms are identical.

I lay the napkin back on my lap. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

Mike turns to his mom. “Is it too forward to compliment her on a first date?”

“Every woman loves being told they’re beautiful.” Susan sits ramrod straight in her chair, her chin turned up haughtily. “You compliment me every morning.”

If I was feeling bold, I’d tell her, Trust me, lady. I’m not jealous of this giant man-child complimenting you every day. He’s clearly delusional and not able to make his own life choices while you just enable this wild behavior. I want nothing to do with either of you. He can continue living attached to your hip, just like you want. But might I recommend some therapy for your almond mom ways and attachment issues?

“Mom, don’t embarrass me.” Mike shakes his head and snickers before winking at me.

I press my lips into a thin line while Mike straightens his tie.

He shoots me a cocky grin. “Your dress is…wow.” His eyes slither downward, and I wish I could crawl out of my skin. Does he really think checking me out—in front of his mother, no less—is a good idea?

“Did you pick it out just for me?” he croons.

I’m glad I haven’t eaten anything yet because my stomach sours. I didn’t know it was possible for a man to be this oblivious and gross at the same time.

I’m not the kind of girl to cut a date early, but I don’t think I can sit here for another minute. Patrice will just have to live with the awkward encounters with Mike at work.

I pick up the napkin I have draped across my lap and wipe my mouth before dropping it on the table and grabbing my clutch. “I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” I stand, and Susan jumps out of her seat.

“Oh, I’ll go with you.”

Wonderful. There goes my plan to climb out the window. Not a chance mother dearest is going to let me escape.

She only washes her hands while I hide in a stall and pull out my phone to send an SOS text.

Men come and go. Okay, really, they just go like an endless revolving door of terrible first dates. But my friends have stuck around through it all. One of whom just so happens to be Austin Bradford, the starting shortstop for our local MLB team, the Louisville Mustangs. And he’s also the best baker I know. I’m really grateful he had an early home game today, because that means he’ll probably be at his house, waiting for me with a fresh batch of whatever he felt like whipping up today.

He’s been there for me after every terrible date, ready to supply a listening ear and his newest sweet creation. He’s too good for this world. Austin is somehow masculine while being the most thoughtful, caring man I know. It’s too bad he’s too focused on his baseball career to date. That he only sees me as a friend.

He’s finishing up his third year in the MLB this season, so he’s almost done with the pre-arbitration contract. I still don’t fully understand all the details, but from what I’ve gathered, it basically means he’s getting paid less without room to negotiate his salary.

Moving into next season, he should be able to negotiate that with the team. And while players typically stay with their original team for the first six years, they can be traded at any point. But he’s told me it’s especially common to be traded in the first three rookie years since it costs the teams less money.

With how well Austin has been playing, I’m terrified he’s going to call me one day saying he’s moving across the country. So, I guess it’s probably for the best that we’re only friends when there’s no guarantee how long he’ll play for the Mustangs. Even if I wish we could be so much more.

What was I doing before I started daydreaming about Austin…? I glance back at my phone screen. SOS text. Right, got it.

I tap his name in my pinned texts and type out a message.

ME