Page 29 of Checking Mr. Wrong
“Wait.You tricked her into going to dinner, and you don’t think that’s wrong?”
One of the best parts about my weekly Chronic Warrior’s Support Group meeting is that it’s supposed to be like Vegas. What happens here, stays here. No judgment, no shame, just a room full of people who get it. I’m grateful to Cade for suggesting this meeting a couple weeks back—it’s become a weekly check-in I didn’t know I needed. A lifeline.
Yet, here’s Clara, the team’s social media manager, standing in front of me, throwing that Vegas theory out the window.
When she puts it that bluntly, yeah, maybe I’mnowsecond-guessing my choices.
“Well, yes…and no,” I start, fumbling for a justification that doesn’t make me sound like a complete jerk. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?” Clara crosses her arms, her expression a mix of exhaustion and unyielding determination. Lately, I’ve noticed how much extra effort she’s been pouring into our social media. Clara’s the best at what she does, and not just because she’s making the team go viral on TikTok. She’s a force of nature—direct, no-nonsense, and somehow even scarier than the coach when she’s doling out instructions. Maybe it’s the mom energy.Chronic fatigue syndrome might slow her body, but it hasn’t dulled her ability to pin me with a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.
I don’t have to flounder long before Cade, bless him, steps up to bat. “From what he’s told me, there’s no way she would have agreed to meet up with him otherwise,” he says, shrugging into his jacket like he’s settling in for a debate. “Wasn’t she clocking your OCD, too?”
“And there’s that,” I admit, because Cade’s not wrong. Mabel’s sharp as a tack, and hello, I’m as predictable as a clock with my routines. If I didn’t take a little creative license with how I got her to agree, it wouldn’t be happening. “But she wasn’t weird about it.”
Cade cocks his head to one side. “Oh?”
“No, she started talking about other athletes who have it.” I smile. “It was nice being compared to some of the greats.”
Clara grins, giving me a look that hints she knows more than she’s letting on, but I don’t get any time to pry it out of her. We’re interrupted when Jason Rodriguez, who has rheumatoid arthritis, stops by to shake my hand.
“Powerful admission tonight about where you’ve been mentally,” he says, clapping my back. “I think it resonated with all of us.”
His wife, Tasha, is suddenly by his side, slipping her hand into his.
“Mind over matter, right, babe?” she says as she leans in to kiss his cheek.
I feel a swell of pride as it sinks in that something I said hit home for other people in the room. “I’m really starting to like this group.”
As Cade moves toward the door, he pauses and looks back. “By the way,” he says, grinning, “you owe me for convincing you to come here in the first place.”
I laugh, shaking my head. He’s not wrong about that either. If it wasn’t for him coming so he had extra support for how hedeals with his mom, I wouldn’t have found them. And I never expected to feel so comfortable here, but I do. It’s a bonus having Clara here with us, another familiar face. It’s one more reason I keep coming back.
“How about I come over and I’ll pay you back. I’ll organize your closet?” I joke as we file outside. “People with OCD are good at that, just ask David Beckham.”
“I’m not enabling you,” Cade retorts, slugging my arm as we spill onto the sidewalk, waving goodbye to other members. “But, I’ll admit I like watching those videos on TikTok. What are they—#cleantok?”
“Oh, yes.” I know exactly what he’s talking about. “Where they fold sheets perfectly and arrange their towels like at a hotel?”
Cade throws his hands in the air. “So relaxing.”
“Brrr, it’s cold tonight,” Clara interjects, murmuring as she tightens her coat around her neck, the night air a touch more icy than it has been lately. She spins around and sets her sights on me. “So, when are you seeing her again?”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “You mean when’s the next part of the interview?”
“No.” Clara shakes her head and laughs. “When are you asking her out? On a for-real date.”
My heart nearly implodes at the mere thought. Manipulating a dinner date disguised as “work” is one thing, but putting myself out there to one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever met and asking her to hang out with only me? Shivers.
“We’ll see about that,” I say with a chuckle. Yeah, I can be a big talker sometimes.
“You won’t know if you even have a chance until you guys spend some time together.” Clara shrugs a shoulder.
“Clara has a point,” Cade says. “If you ask her out, you’ll know real fast where you stand.”
Are they right? Of course. “Maybe I don’t want to know.”
Cade harrumphs. “Maybe you need to flirt with her more.”
