“We’re not dating.” He smiles. “Yet.”
“Yet.” I smile back.
“So, at what time is Austin picking you up?”
“Six thirty. The dinner starts at seven. I figure I should be there a little early to get the key to my new place from Valerie.”
“New place, huh? Where will you be living?”
“I have no idea, but I assume it’ll be right by here, since I’ll be covering the UNC baseball team and all.”
“I guess this means you won’t be complaining about the track to get here anymore.” He shoots me a look. “Or get here late.”
“I guess so,” I say in a sing-song voice, rolling my eyes. “I was late once.”
“One too many times.”
“And I called your mom about it.”
“And my mom is rarely ever here so that was mistake number one.”
I sigh. “Okay, Arch. I get it.”
“Good.” He smiles. “What do you think I should wear tonight?”
I laugh. “I would help you, but my boss is a bit of a jerk and wants me to only work the entire time I’m here.”
“Oh, come on, Misty,” he calls out as I walk away from him with things in my hand to go wash.
“Sorry. Maybe another time when I’m not working,” I call out and laugh as the door opens with a new customer.
Once I’m in the back, I text Soleil to let her know what’s going on. I haven’t been able to really talk to her since our schedules aren’t coinciding the way they usually do. She texts back a few minutes later with a simple: OMG. Don’t fall for that asshole again! I text back assuring that I won’t, then frown to myself. Did I really paint Mitchell as an asshole? I mean, not that he doesn’t deserve it for breaking my heart, but the memories I have of us together were definitely good ones. I push those aside and focus on the only one that matters, when he told me he couldn’t possibly love me, and stick to that one. It still hurts just as much as it did when I was seventeen. I’m not sure that kind of pain just goes away. Maybe this will be for the best. It’ll bring closure to what I never had.
Chapter Five
“Whew. I’m glad I dressed up for this.” Austin eyes me up and down, checking me out before meeting my gaze again. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” I smile. “So do you.”
He’s wearing black slacks and a white button-down. He’s wearing the uniform the waiters at my uncle’s restaurant wear, but I don’t want to tell him that because he went the extra mile and I was the one who made him dress up for this date. Besides, he looks handsome. Austin has that boy-next-door charm. He’s sweet, with a kind smile and a great personality. The fact that I don’t like him in that way is a reflection of how messed up I am and not the other way around.
“Shall we?” He offers me his arm as if we’re going to prom in the fifties.
On our way to the restaurant, we small talk about school and what our plans are once we graduate. Austin has two more semesters to go, while I’ll be finished after this one. He’s telling me all about his parents’ flooring company, which he plans to work at once he’s done with his business degree, when we pull into the parking lot.
“This is your uncle’s place, right?” He turns the car off and looks over at me as we get out of the car.
“Yep.”
“I’m guessing your sister is long gone by now. I can’t believe she’s engaged to an NFL player.” He chuckles. “But I guess y’all are used to famous people, with your dad being their doctor and all.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re used to famous people. I guess we know a lot of athletes though, yeah.” I smile. “And some are famous.”
“That’s wild.”
“I guess.” I let out a laugh as we walk inside the restaurant.
It’s something our friends have always been impressed with, but doesn’t really get to me, probably because most of the famous athletes we know are people we grew up with and my brother-in-law is one of them. As are Mitchell and Maverick, if either of them end up going pro. We walk through the arch of baby blue balloons in the front of the restaurant and stop walking, not knowing where to go next. There are probably twenty large tables set up, with people filling each of them.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was a baby shower,” Austin whispers beside me, making me laugh.
It’s letting out that laugh that makes me realize how wound up I’ve been. It’s not like I’m intimidated by anyone here or this date with Austin. Yet, the heaviness in my chest doesn’t seem to go away. Anxiety was what my doctor diagnosed me with. My parents made me go and see someone. As if I needed a professional to tell me what I already knew. I don’t know when exactly I developed it. As a teenager, I’d always been outgoing and fun, and then something changed. I began to worry more. About everything. My mother pinned it back to when I was a worry-wart of a child before she began to question if something traumatic happened to me in New York when I was gone for a year. That wasn’t the case though. In any event, I’d been given medicine to help and developed an intolerance to them before being introduced to medicinal marijuana. I’m trying not to rely on it all the time unless I need it, not because I feel I’m getting addicted or anything, but because I hate relying on anything, or anyone.