“That was a nice date,” Liam says to the ceiling after. Mike resists the urge to groan. “That was not a date,” he says. “Baseball,” Liam says, starting to tick off his fingers. “Drinks. Dinner. Getting epically laid. Sounds like a date.” “Sounds like most of the times we hang out with the addition of baseball,” Mike says. Liam gives him a triumphant look, and Mike realizes, too late, he got played.
