Page 34 of Mom Com

“Have a beer with me first? I mean if I’m being honest, the motivation behind that text might have been to get you to come out for the night,” he says with a smile I remember well from my teenage years. I think that smile might have gotten me pregnant. But the idea that his ask was about me and not a deep desire to get to know his son is a big fat turnoff.

And I still have just enough sense to know that hanging out drinking beers with Jake is a bad idea. “Thanks, I’d love to, but I actually have to get up at three thirty in the morning, so...”

He whistles. “Serious sunrise hike?”

“Ha! The day I get up to willingly exercise before the sun’s up, please stage some sort of intervention because things are really, really wrong.”

“Then?” he asks, and I realize this is the longest conversation we’ve had in years. And while it’s easy, it always is with Jake right up until things get serious and he mysteriously disappears.

“The bakery,” I say. “Wilder and I have the early shift.”

“Wilder?” he says, his tone losing its humor. “Why’s Wilder working at your dad’s bakery at four in the morning?”

Crap. So maybe there is someone in town who hasn’t heard the gossip yet. But that’s really the last conversation I want to have at Tony’s while surrounded by a bunch of drunk guys who would pounce on it and start making jokes.

I scratch my eyebrow, hesitating.

At which point Wilder walks up, plucking his coat from the stool next to us. “I’m on my way out. I’d be happy to give you a ride, Maddi,” Wilder offers and Jake stiffens. “Liv mentioned you might need one.”

For a moment I’m stunned, and I scan the room for Liv so I can accuse her of being a traitor, but she’s immersed in a conversation and isn’t looking my way.

“Uh...” I say, not sure what else Liv might have told him.

And then to make things a million times more awkward, Jake chimes in with, “Or I could take you.”

I look from one to the other, about to laugh, but neither of them appears to be joking.

“No need, since I’m on my way out,” Wilder says, his tone decisive.

Jake shrugs, but it’s not an easy motion. “Just giving Maddi an alternative.”

“That seems to be your specialty,” Wilder remarks, and I look at him in shock.

“It is, isn’t it?” Jake agrees, and I know in my gut that his next comment is going to be about how I usually accept his offers. What in the holy hell is happening right now?

“Don’t worry about it, Jake,” I interject in an attempt to break up the uncomfortable and ridiculous battle over a five-minute drive. Besides, even if Wilder isn’t my first choice for a ride home, I also don’t want Jake to think I’m returning his (probably meaningless) flirting. “You just got here. Enjoy your beer.”

“It’s really not a problem,” Jake says, as I slip my coat on and pull my hair from under my collar. “It’s a quick drive.”

But it’s Wilder who answers. “I believe she declined you, Jake.” He says Jake’s name like a warning.

The fuck is going on here? Am I so drunk that I’ve started hallucinating? Neither of them is interested in me—Wilder is dating Kate and Jake can barely be bothered to call when I’m in California. Lord help me if I don’t kill them both.

I consider walking away but decide the fastest course of action is just to go with Wilder. “I’ll see you soon, okay, Jake?” I say with a smile.

“Anytime you want,” Jake replies and gives me a hug that lasts a second too long, causing Wilder to frown.

I say a quick goodbye to Matt and Jenna and hug Liv. She grins at me with such delight when she sees Wilder by my side that I roll my eyes. I hope she doesn’t think she won this bet because a ride proves exactly nothing.

“I’m texting you tomorrow, when I’ve regained my senses,” I say to Liv as Wilder and I head for the door. “I have many, many things to say to you.”

“I’d be hurt if you didn’t!” she calls after me.

But as the door closes and it’s just me and Wilder on the chilly street, a canopy of lights above our heads, I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. I hope he doesn’t think we’re friendly now because this doesn’t change our decade-long standoff.

“My car’s just over there,” Wilder says, his expression relaxing now that we’re alone. He points across the street and holds out his palm for me to go first. It all feels so very strange and so very normal to be doing such an ordinary thing with him that I find myself giving him an assessing look.

“What?” he says with a pinch of curiosity.