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But Adam was the first to break the silence about it.
“What are we going to tell her?” he asked.
I wet my lips and swallowed.
It was basically the whole what are we doing question, and despite our last twelve or so hours, I had no idea.
I knew I had feelings for Adam. Strong ones. I knew I wanted to be with him.
But as much as I imagined myself in bed with him, entwined with him, enjoying late nights and early mornings with him, I couldn’t quite imagine us doing normal couple things. Walking down the street hand in hand. Being together in the traditional sense.
Aside from the fact that he hadn’t exactly said anything to change his mind on relationships, I was realizing that I didn’t want anyone at work to know we were involved.
It would look bad only on me. I could only imagine the looks I’d get from people like Josh MacMillan or the other assistants, especially the guys. Just thinking about the judging eyes and knowing looks I’d get around the office made me kind of shudder, so before I could think twice, I said, “We’ll just act normal around her.” Hastily, I added, “For now.”
Adam’s face was annoyingly unreadable as he nodded.
“Alright. Then it’s decided,” he said, and though he sounded entirely on board, I saw a glint in his eyes that didn’t quite match the tone of his voice. Or did I imagine that?
Did he prefer the other option? I wondered just as a little voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Adam!”
I blinked, turning just in time to see the little brown-haired boy from the picnic table, Ryan, come up to deliver Adam a crayon-scribbled drawing.
“This is for me?” Adam asked with the kind of big excitement that made every kid grin. Ryan was no exception, though after he nodded giddily, he turned and ran fast back to his table, forcing me to quietly melt in my seat as I watched Adam smile while looking over the drawing. I could barely change the look on my face in time when he glanced up with a smile and asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Just… didn’t expect you to have such intense dad energy,” I teased. He laughed.
“Pretty sure I was made to be a kick-ass dad.”
I almost snorted but caught myself and squinted. “Wait—really?”
“Yeah,” Adam said matter-of-factly while nodding his thanks at the smiling waitress who came by to drop off a bowl of mixed berries. He popped one in his mouth before asking, “Why?”
“Umm… I think because you’ve never imagined being in a relationship or getting married, so I just assumed…” I trailed off as I considered that that was a totally shitty assumption. But was it? I didn’t even know anymore.
Adam looked unfazed. “I just always imagined giving my kid all the best parts of my childhood and redoing all the parts that went wrong,” he said simply, piquing my curiosity.
Because I knew about all the parts that had gone wrong, but I’d literally never heard Adam talk about any good parts. I had kind of assumed his childhood was constant acting out, getting in trouble and butting heads with his mom until college, when he left Jersey for California and never looked back.
“Really,” I said slowly, since the only fond childhood tradition I’d heard him talk about was the Maxwell family French toast. “Care to share any of those good parts?” I asked just as our drinks arrived—a beer for Adam, a Bloody Mary for me.
Adam took a drink before he answered easily. “Baseball games. They were cheaper than basketball games and the time I caught a foul ball was the greatest day ever,” he said with a big grin that made me laugh as I pictured baby Adam.
“Amazing. How old were you?”
“Eight. But we’d been going to games since I was two. It was always Philippe’s before the game, seats in the top deck, try to catch a foul ball.”
“Cute,” I remarked, utterly charmed despite the fact that something about what he’d just said sounded off to me. I couldn’t figure out what though, nor did I care to try since Adam was now talking about how his eight-year-old self took great care of that baseball, never going anywhere without it for basically a year. I squinted.
“Is that the one that…”
“Is on my desk at the office? Yeah,” Adam smiled. But when I made a funny face, he asked, “What?”
“Nothing. I always thought it was some client’s game ball. I guess I’m just
surprised, because I always saw baseball as the sport that’s your job. It’s pretty clear you like basketball better.”
