Ten points in the family-man box.
“I think it’s great. Are any of your other family members coming?” I ask, thankful my cold medicine is working and my nose doesn’t sound like Mr. Snuffleupagus from Sesame Street anymore.
“No one other than my brother, Rob,” he says, pointing toward the middle-aged man standing on the field with his hands on his hips. “He coaches the team. And then my sister-in-law would normally be here, too, but she just had their baby two weeks ago, so she’s staying home today.”
Right. The one he bought flowers for. It seems like this guy is thoughtful in a big way. All the points for that.
“Do you have any other siblings in town?” I ask, while discreetly admiring his well-groomed beard and dark brown eyes. He’s also wearing a team T-shirt, Little Grizzlies, and I find it incredibly endearing.
Brandon has comfy vibes written all over him. Potential dad vibes. Just like Emily and Madison told me I needed.
“Nah—it’s just me and my brother. But our parents live in town too.”
Wow. Another check mark. He has parents in his life. Which means I could have parents in my life, too, if we work out.
“I bet they are excited to have another grandchild,” I say, feeling super proud of my small talk abilities today. This date is already proving completely different from my last one. I guess all the time I’ve been spending with Will has paid off. It’s not even that we practiced specific things about dating all that much. It’s more that I’ve learned over the last few weeks with him to trust myself and what I have to offer. He’s been a safe place for me to…
Ugh! No, Annie, stop thinking about Will!
Brandon laughs a nice low laugh. “Oh, they are. And they’re very eager for me to start adding some to the list as well. Which, I don’t mind because I’m eager to start a family too,” he says with an easy smile while looking out over the field. Not at all embarrassed that he just implied we’d get right to baby making if we work out. Funny how men can get away with saying things like that on a date and it’s endearing, but when I did, I got left ten minutes into the date.
I suddenly jump when Brandon claps and yells, “Let’s go, Hunter!”
He turns his face to me, and his smile only widens. It’s such a nice smile I wait for my stomach to flip. Go on, stomach, flip. Fine, a little roll then? Can I at least get a flutter? Listen…I’d settle for a twitch.
Nothing. Dang it.
Oh, well. Not a problem. Long-term loving relationships are built on more than just flutters and stomach flips anyway, right? So even if I don’t feel them now, it’s totally fine. Tons of time for flipping later down the road. What I’m looking for is a partner. Not a roller coaster.
If only I hadn’t just experienced a big stomach flip this morning, maybe this would be easier. Not only did Will make out with me until my bones felt like mush, but…he told me he has feelings for me. Feelings. And I told him that I have feelings for him. And now here I am on a date with someone else. It feels so wrong and backward and upside down. When two people declare their feelings, they get together, right?! That’s how it happens. But of course I would fall for a man who doesn’t believe in marriage. Who doesn’t want a family. Who wants to remain as wild and free as a bird.
I knew I’d get feelings for him from the beginning, though, didn’t I? I think something in me has known I was capable of loving him since the second I laid eyes on him.
But I would never in my wildest dreams want to try to change Will, and he doesn’t want to try to change me. Neither one of us wants to ask the other to sacrifice anything. So our only options are to move on.
Digging into my mind for dating advice from He Who Shall Not Be Thought Of, I pull out a piece of memorized conversation. “So, Brandon…would you rather skydive or read a book?”
“Oh—good question.” He makes a thinking noise and narrows one eye. “Read a book.”
Ding, ding, ding. Right answer! See stomach? This guy just keeps getting better and better.
I angle excitedly toward him. “Me too! I love to read. What’s your favorite genre?”
“Pretty much anything,” he says, and then adds, “Well, not true. Anything besides romance.”
Oh no.
I chuckle lightly to cover my despair. “Why not romance?”
He gives me a come-on look. “Because the whole genre just seems messed up. First, it sets unrealistic standards that no one can obtain, and, second, it’s just…fluff. I’d rather read something that actually has substance, you know?”
Cue my internal crisis:
He hates romance.
But he loves his family!
But he just belittled an entire genre that I adore by calling it fluff.
But I’ve hidden my romance-loving ways for my entire adult life. What are a few more years?
Will’s voice adds to the chaos in my head from when he read the romance book I gave him. It was sexy as hell. And there were a lot of profound moments too. Felt like free therapy. Ugh. That’s not fair, though. I shouldn’t compare Brandon and Will. They’re two completely different men. As in…Brandon is turning out nothing like Will.
However, that thought is irrelevant because Will is leaving, and he doesn’t plan to look back.
“What about you?” he asks. “What kind of books do you like to read?”
The sun seems to grow eight times hotter, if that’s even possible. If you listen closely you can hear the sound of my sweat dripping down the back of my neck. “Oh, me? Well…I actually—”
Two figures suddenly catch the corner of my eye, trying to hop up onto the bleachers from the side, several rows behind us. Oh my gosh…this cannot be happening. What are they doing here?
“What’s wrong?” Brandon asks, about to turn his head to look at the path of Will and Amelia, wearing baseball hats, sunglasses, and…is Amelia wearing a fake mustache?
I grab Brandon’s jaw and tug it back in my direction. His eyes widen as I pretend to knock an imaginary bug from his jaw. “It was a bee. Didn’t want you to get stung.”
“A bee?” he asks, immediately standing. “I’m very allergic to bees.” He’s looking everywhere for the bee. Now I feel terrible.
“Oh—don’t worry. It’s gone! It flew under the bleachers.”
“This one? Okay, we need to move, then, in case it has a nest. You okay if we scoot up a few rows?”
I cast a quick glance up and the only available seats are right next to Tweedle Nosy and Tweedle Mustache. Seriously, who does Amelia think she’s fooling wearing a mustache? And it’s not even stuck on that well. And Will…well, he’s dressed normally and looks absolutely delicious in that hat, and that’s why I can’t sit by him.
“Oh, I don’t think we need to. I’m sure the bee is—”
“I’m sorry, I know I seem overly paranoid here, but the thing is, I’d rather not have to use my Epi-Pen today if I don’t have to.”
And now I feel terrible that this man would ever think I was not worried about his safety. Or that having a deathly allergy is an inconvenience for me. “Oh my gosh, absolutely. Let’s move.”
“Great, thank you,” he says, extending his hand for me to proceed him first.
When I turn and face Will, he immediately diverts his eyes and tries to hide himself behind the bill of his hat. He holds his hand up to tug the hat down farther over his eyes, and this makes me laugh. As if he didn’t think he was distinct enough on his own, he’s shielding himself with his tattooed arm. Nice.
I walk up the bleachers and stop just in front of Will. “Excuse me, sir, is this seat taken?”
Both guilty persons turn their eyes up to me and then to the man over my shoulder. “Of course! Have a seat there, young lady!” says Amelia in the worst impression of a male country accent I’ve ever heard.
Will—the devil—bites his lips together to keep from laughing.
“Thank you,” I say solemnly while taking the seat next to Will. Brandon takes the seat beside me and now we are one big awkward human sandwich. Should I just acknowledge that I know these two loons beside me and get it all out in the open? If I do, however, that might stir up a lot of questions. None of which I feel like answering.
Suddenly, Brandon’s nephew steps up to bat, and Brandon shoots up from his seat clapping and shouting encouragements.
I take the opportunity to whip my head toward Will and Amelia. “What the helicopters are you two doing here?” I hiss.
“Just enjoying America’s favorite pastime.” If I could describe Will’s expression in one word it would be provoking.
I shove my elbow into his ribs. “Don’t you dare smile right now! You both need to go. Immediately. Amelia, you look ridiculous.”
“Leave before I find out who wins the game? Never. We’re not fair-weather fans,” Will says way too over the top.
“Knock it off. And you,” I say leaning toward Amelia. “Your mustache is falling off!”
She gasps and presses it back on with a grin. “It’s pretty convincing, isn’t it? It was a leftover from a Halloween party costume.”
“No. You look suspicious and mildly alarming.”
Will shrugs. “Told her not to wear it, but she insisted.”
“You shouldn’t have come at all! I don’t need a bodyguard.”
A smile touches his mouth. “Executive protection a—”
I hold up a menacing finger. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
Brandon does the dad whistle through two fingers, and it’s so loud I have to clutch my head. He finally sits back down when his nephew gets three strikes. He then leans around me to indulge in my worst nightmare: my date having a conversation with Will, the one man he’ll never live up to. “Hi, I’m Brandon. And I guess you’ve already met Annie?”
I watch the moment Amelia slips back into character. It’s painful.
She smiles so big her mustache unpeels in the right corner. “Hi there! M’name’s Joe! And this here is my brother, Sam.”
I watch in silent dismay as the two men’s hands cross over me to join in a man shake. The sight of Will’s butterfly hand clasping my date’s very normal one makes me irrationally angry. I shouldn’t be able to compare the two men so directly like this. It’s not fair to Brandon. And when Will’s eyes cut to me for the briefest of heated moments, I’m afraid that the thought He licked my neck this morning is projected onto my face. Will’s invisible fingerprints all over my body are now glowing like a radioactive substance.
“Nice to meet you both,” says Brandon.
“Likewise.”
Brandon sits back and then leans into my side. “That’s definitely a woman with a fake mustache, right?”
“It appears to be so, yes,” I say, my gaze fixed forward, wishing I could drop the two people beside me into a black hole somewhere.
“I think moving to the country is going to take more getting used to than I expected.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ve lived here my whole life and I’m still not used to it.”
He laughs. “Not sure it does.”
Will crosses his arms, and his knuckles brush the back of my arm. My rude, rude stomach barrel-rolls. I want to glare at Will.
A conversation Amelia is having with the woman in front of her suddenly grabs my attention. “I’ve never seen you at these games before. Who did you say you were here to see play?” says the woman decked out in Little Grizzlies gear.
“Never seen us, huh? Strange. We’re here every weekend to cheer on little Tommy.”
“Timmy,” Will corrects.
“Right. Little Timmy. Poor thing never was very good at baseball, but I tell him to keep on trying, just like his aunt!”
“Uncle,” Will says.
“Uncle, right. Oh look, there he is getting up to bat!” Amelia stands up, her jeans (that is, Noah’s jeans) swallowing her whole, and yells, “Go, Timmy!”
“That’s my son…Matthew,” says the woman.
Amelia pretends to squint heavily. “Well shit. That’s what I get for leaving my glasses in the car. Brother, can you see Timmy?”
“No, brother, I cannot,” Will says deadpan, and I want to push them both off the back of these stands.
Brandon, somehow oblivious to the Two Stooges scene happening beside me, asks, “How long have you owned your flower shop?”
Oh no, flower shop questions. This is what got me in trouble on my last date. However, I’m Annie 2.0, so I’m prepared for this. I crack my mental knuckles and prepare to wow him with a flourishing answer. “Four years.”
Yep, wowed him.
Will bumps my arm intentionally. I toss a quick glare at him, and he widens his eyes with a keep-going look. Wait, so is he here to cheer me on or sabotage me? I feel like I’m on a spinning-teacup ride.
I sigh and turn back to Brandon. “What I mean is…four years in the brick-and-mortar shop. But before that I owned a flower truck and would sell out of farmers markets.”
He looks genuinely impressed and interested. Another check mark. “That’s really cool. Did you travel to other states or stay local to Kentucky?”
“I pretty much stayed within a fifty-mile radius,” I say, and then realize this is the perfect conversational intro for a question that’s become important to me as of late. “Um, which is actually why I think I’d like to travel more in the future.”
“Go Timmy!” Amelia yells again.
Will shakes his head. “Still not Timmy.”
“Rats.” Amelia sits down.
“Do you like to travel, Brandon?” I ask while trying my hardest to block out the man beside me most definitely chewing wintergreen gum. His kiss would taste incredible right now.
Brandon grimaces. “I used to. But I traveled a ton in my twenties—I’m honestly pretty over it. I’m ready to finally settle in somewhere and just explore my own life around me.”
One Month Ago Annie would be jumping for joy. Current Annie is deflating—especially as I realize I’m not sure what I really want anymore. Who I was and who I am becoming are meeting at an intersection and deciding who should proceed. All I know is, for Brandon getting so many check marks on my Perfect Soulmate List, I don’t feel any physical reactions while sitting beside him.
It doesn’t help that Will leans forward suddenly and addresses Brandon directly and with zero shame for eavesdropping. “But, uh, your girlfriend just said she wants to travel. Surely if she wants to, you’d go with her?”
Oh. My. Gosh!
Discreetly I reach behind me and pinch the back of Will’s arm. His jaw jumps, but he doesn’t retreat like I hoped.
Brandon looks just as startled as I do by this question. He laughs lightly to cover his unease. “Oh, well, she’s not my girlfriend, actually. This is our first date. But, um, I guess if she really wanted to travel we could…figure it out.” The way he says figure it out tells me he’s just being polite. He has zero desire to travel. That’s fine, though, right? I’m fine staying put.
“Great,” Will says in a bland tone.
Amelia—or should I say Joe—sits forward. “You know? I’ve been known to do some traveling m’self. And to sing a few tunes as well. It’s always been a big dream of mine to make it onto the big stage one of these days.”
She’s clearly having too much fun with this. I’m absolutely going to have to murder her later.
“That’s…nice. Don’t give up on your dreams,” Brandon says, and he definitely gets extra points for not immediately shunning these two goons.
I stand up. “I’m so thirsty! Who needs a drink?”
Brandon stands too. “I can go get some bottled waters.” Ugh, he’s so nice.
“No! You sit down. Your nephew is about to bat, so you don’t want to miss it.” And then as I pass Will, I widen my eyes and flare my nostrils at him in a get-your-butt-up kind of way that he doesn’t miss.
“Oh, uh, Joe, I’m going to get us something too. Keep your eyes peeled for Timmy.”
“Well, hurry back now.”
“This is not as charming as you think it is,” I tell Amelia quietly as I pass. She pinches my butt cheek, and now I really hope Brandon isn’t watching.
I storm toward the concession stand with Will following a few feet behind me. When we’re finally out of eyeshot, I whirl around on him. “What in the Mary Poppins do you think you’re doing?! Are you trying to sabotage me? Get in my head? Ruin my date?”
“No,” he says firmly. “You were never even supposed to see us.”
“Oh please,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Joe back there could never go under the radar.”
“I told her to leave the mustache in the truck.”
“William.”
“Annabell.”
“You’re ruining my date.”
He scoffs. “That guy was doing it already.”
“No! Don’t do that.” I wiggle my fingers in front of his face. “You don’t get to say things like that and make me second-guess anything. Brandon is a perfectly nice guy. He’s kind, he wants a family, he wants to put down roots. He wants everything I want. This date was going perfectly, and he’s exactly what I’ve been looking for!”
Will’s blue-gray eyes skewer me, and then he puts his thumb against my chin and tugs it back down. Neither of us say anything for a minute. No need to acknowledge that I didn’t truly mean any of that—we both know it wasn’t true.
Will inches closer so he can talk quietly. “If you want marriage and a family and all of that—fine, great. But don’t try to delude yourself into thinking that you are still happy to settle for an unadventurous vanilla relationship. You’ve been living in this town doing family events your whole life, Annie. You don’t need a husband for that. What you haven’t done yet is see the world. Experience new things. Live by your own desires. And if you settle for someone who’s going to keep you from doing that, I’m going to be very upset.”
He takes a step away like he’s already angry at just the prospect of me marrying someone like Brandon. He picks up his baseball hat, rakes his hand through his hair, and then slaps it back on and paces back to me. “And you know what else?! You’re one of the most passionate people I’ve ever met. What are you even doing here, Annie? You don’t want to go to a Little League baseball game for your first date, where the only thing he’s proving is he’s going to put his family before you from the start.”
I’m angry. He shouldn’t be here. “If you know me so well, then where do I want to go for a first date, hmm?” I throw my arms out at my sides. “Where is this amazing place you think Brandon should have taken me?”
Will tilts his head. “Trick question. Because you want to be asked where you want to go for a first date.” He steps even closer and brushes his fingers against mine. Like his body is pleading with mine for something. “And the problem with your failed date a few weeks ago wasn’t because you were boring either. It’s because you were bored, Annie. You want someone exciting and passionate and—”
“Someone like you?” I say in a sharp sarcastic tone. I threw that comment out on purpose and it hit a bull’s-eye. Will’s face falls and I give one short sad laugh. “What was the purpose of that speech, if not to get in my head? Which really isn’t fair, Will, because last I checked, we were never an option. Did we not just lay everything out on the table this morning?”
He rubs the back of his neck and emotionally retreats. “You’re right.”
“And nothing has changed for you in the last four hours, has it? You’re still leaving town after the wedding?”
He nods silently.
“Nothing has changed for me either. So please leave. Because although I know you mean well, this isn’t helping at all. And frankly, it wasn’t fair of you to show up here like this.”
Will doesn’t skulk off or pout like a man-child.
My breath catches when he steps forward, a blazing look in his eyes as he clasps my hands. “I’m sorry. You’re totally right. I really didn’t mean to mess this up for you today, I swear. I just wanted to…I don’t know, make sure you were safe. Taken care of. And then I heard that guy already slicing away at the things you’ve been telling me you wanted to do—and when I thought of you having to sacrifice all of that…I couldn’t handle it. I know your goal is to get married, but…” He lets go of my hands to cup my face. “Please just promise me you’ll marry someone who sees you and loves you and who makes you excited and happy—not just someone who looks right on paper.”
You. I want you, Will.
“I promise,” I say softly, resisting tears with every fiber of my being. “You have to go now. And I’m going to give Brandon more than a ten-minute shot because maybe he has some adventure under all that beard hair.”
Will winces like I punched him in the stomach. “You just had to mention the beard hair.” His wince slowly unfolds into a smile that twists my heart into taffy. He then casts one tortured look at my mouth before stepping away. “I’ll head out now.”
“Thank you. And take Joe with you.”
When I go back to the stands, Will and Amelia are gone. I hand Brandon one of the waters I purchased at the concession stand, but hold on to the small box of popcorn. He smiles kindly and thanks me. I can’t help but notice that he doesn’t have a dangerous black rim around his irises.
“So…did your friends finally leave?” he says as I sit down beside him.
I snap my eyes to him. “You knew the whole time?”
He laughs. “Absolutely. And that dude is in love with you, right?”
I breathe in and decide to stop playing games with myself and be nothing but honest. “Yeah, I think he might be.”
“What’s the deal there, then?”
I stare down into my popcorn. “We’re both scared of different things.”
“Been there,” he says, in a thoughtful tone of voice that clearly has a story behind it. A story I’ll never know because Brandon is not the man for me.
“Um, so Brandon, I don’t think…” I pause to find the right words. Unfortunately, no inspiration hits.
He laughs and saves me. “It’s okay, Annie. I’m not quite feeling a connection either if that’s what you were going to say.”
My shoulders slump with relief. “Oh good. I was worried I was going to hurt your feelings. Friends?”
“I think it’s for the best. You want me to drive you home now?”
I look down at the water and popcorn and then at the baseball game. “Actually, if you’re not eager to get rid of me, I think it would be fun to stay and hang out.”
He smiles. “Absolutely.”
And that—John—is how you tactfully end a bad date.
Later that night, I lie in bed restless and unable to sleep from unending questions somersaulting through my head. So I text the one person who has become my absolute safe place. “I can’t sleep. Come over?”
Ten minutes later, even though it’s against his rules, Will is slipping into my bed and wrapping his arms around me. He kisses my neck and my jaw and my temple and then with his arms around me, I fall asleep with my finger tracing the raised lines of his butterfly tattoo—scared of the day when I call and he’s too far away.
