Page 52 of Run Home

We both decline, and he walks away to give us a few minutes to look at the menu. Adrian looks at me instead, his smile so content that I start to blush and ask, “Do you already know what you’re going to order?”

“Yeah, when I come here during the season, there’s a trout dish from the dinner menu that I typically get and swap out the sides for a salad,” Adrian replies.

I tsk. “Ordering from the dinner menu at lunchtime—you’re such a cheater,” I tease.

“What are you going to get?” he asks.

Setting down the menu, I say, “The goat cheese appetizer.”

Adrian narrows his eyes. “We could get that as an appetizer. You can order an actual entrée too.”

“If you’re going to cheat and order from the dinner menu for lunch, I’m going to cheat and order from the appetizer menu,” I say. He opens his mouth to protest, and I cut in. “You don’t understand how much I love whipped goat cheese. I order it as a meal all the time. Silo has my favorite so far, but I haven’t tried it here yet.”

Peter returns to take our order, laughing when neither of us order from the lunch menu. When he walks away, Adrian asks, “How did it feel to leave the cosmetology school for the last time?”

“Great. I was ready to say goodbye to the practice floor,” I say with a laugh. “I mean, I’m nervous about how long it could take to build up my client list. But I’ve saved and planned for the next several months, so we’ll see how things go. On Thursday, Lynsey and I get to set up the salon chair space we’re sharing, and I’m excited to have a place that feels half mine.”

“Speaking of, I got you a graduation present,” Adrian says, shifting to pull something out of his pocket.

“I told you, this was not a real graduation to turn into a big deal,” I remind him.

He gives me a chastening look. “And I told you this is a huge milestone that we’re celebrating. Here—sorry it got a little crumpled,” he says as he hands me an envelope.

I bite down on my smile as I open it, finding two printed pieces of paper inside. Unfolding the first, I read the printed confirmation for a gift card to a food-delivery service. Adrian says, “In case you’re working all day and don’t have time to go get lunch. You have to make sure you still eat in the middle of styling hair.”

I fully smile now and unfold the second paper. It’s a similar printed gift card, but this one is to one of the local beauty-supply stores that requires a cosmetology license to shop there.

For one thousand dollars.

My eyes shoot up to Adrian’s, my jaw falling open. “Adrian! This is too much! You can’t just give me a gift this big!” My thoughts explode off the starting blocks, running circles of panic around how I could ever counterbalance this kind of gift. My fingers tremble as I try to fold the papers and put them back in the envelope.

What could I possibly do for him that would outweigh him handing me a thousand dollars to start my business? Surprising him with dinner or making his favorite dessert or even rearranging my schedule to be at all his home games couldn’t offset a thousand-dollar gift.

Adrian’s face shifts to mirror some of my panic. “Did I upset you? I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry—I really like giving gifts to people, and I wanted you to know how much I believe in you and how proud I am of you for starting your own thing. I didn’t—”

Peter chooses this moment to come to our table with plates of food, setting them down in front of us. He refills our still-almost-full water glasses and asks if we need anything. Adrian looks up and tells him “no” with a quick smile, and I attempt to chase down my runaway thoughts.

Step out of the spiral. Don’t scare Adrian away by overreacting. I can figure out later what to do to reciprocate the gesture.

Leaning forward, Adrian takes one of my hands in his. The firm pressure of his fingers helps mine to still. He murmurs, “I’m sorry. I know I messed up somehow, but I don’t know exactly why you’re upset. Can you tell me?”

My eyes bounce between his as I try to think how to honestly explain without sounding crazy. “I . . . I’m just already nervous that this is a very lopsided relationship. That you bring so much more to the table than I—”

“No. Stop.” Adrian cuts me off, vehemently shaking his head. “Don’t finish that statement, and don’t even think something like that, okay? It’s not true, and it will never be true.”

Oxygen catches in my throat when I try to respond. He watches my eyes, caresses my hand with his thumb, and waits until I can whisper, “But you’re . . . you’re you, Adrian.”

“Yeah, I’m just me,” he says with a shrug. “A normal guy.”

I eye him like we both know it’s not true. I can practically see the changing tracks in his mind before he says, “Did Griffin bring more to the table than Danae because he was the Wizard of Defense?”

Pouting a lip, I narrow my eyes. “That’s not fair. You know how much I love Danae.”

“Answer the question, cielo.”

Sighing, I say, “No.”

He brings my hand to his lips and kisses the tips of my fingers. “If there’s anything lopsided in our relationship, the scales tip to your side.” His eyes are soft when he adds, “I’m sorry if that was too extravagant of a gift. I don’t always think things through before doing them. I got excited to celebrate you. Will you please accept it?”