Page 27 of Run Home

“Yeah, well, they have to plan this event based around all the KC sports teams’ schedules,” I say, then pause to smile for a photo. “Especially with the Crowns having games almost every day, they can’t exactly schedule the gala for a Saturday night when that’s prime baseball time.”

“I guess you’re right,” Lynsey says, finally locking her phone again. “I can’t believe you get to go on a date with Adrian Ortiz. I’d melt to the floor if he even looked at me.”

I laugh heartily at the image. Anyone not living under a rock knows that Adrian is the heartthrob of the Crowns. Objectively, I know he’s attractive. Maybe I’ve even started to notice that in a less objective way lately. But because he’s been such a steady fixture in my life ever since I moved here, I forget that his presence would be shell-shocking to most women.

“He just needed a plus-one, and I’m an easy ask since we already know each other so well through Griffin,” I reason. Lynsey raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything else.

That’s all it is, right?

“I’d better hustle if I’m gonna get my makeup done and get dressed before Adrian picks me up,” I say.

“Is he coming to your apartment?”

“Heck no. That would cause a scene for sure,” I say. “I’m getting ready at Griffin’s house. He’s filming a guest spot on a sports talk show tomorrow in New York, and he took Danae and Jason with him to spend a couple of days in the city. But he said I could stay at his house tonight so Adrian can pick me up there instead of the busy parking lot of my apartment building.”

“Well, have fun,” Lynsey says. “Feel free to drop my name if any reporters ask about your hair.”

Laughing, I say, “I don’t think I’ll be speaking with the press, but I promise I will if the opportunity presents itself.”

Forty minutes later, I’m putting the finishing touches on my makeup. It’s more than I typically use, but I still went for a more natural look than the heavy glamour women typically wear to black-tie events. When I’m satisfied with my mascara, I carefully step into the baby blue dress I rented for the night.

The silhouette of the dress is a mermaid shape with a small train and short slit on one side. The V-neckline has thin straps that cross over my shoulder blades into a lace-up back. The lady assisting me at the store helped me figure out how to successfully get the dress on and tied by myself.

On top of those details, a million tiny glistening sequins elevate it to reach the black-tie dress code. After tying the laces in a bow, I check over my shoulder to make sure it lies nicely at the small of my back. Smiling at my success, I slip on the strappy silver heels I rented from the same store and give my reflection one last look.

I think I look fancy enough. If not, Adrian’s gonna have to claim me anyway.

I’m securing long crystal earrings with pale-blue teardrop gems when the doorbell rings. Grabbing the silver clutch I borrowed from Alice, I put my phone inside and click clack my way to the foyer.

When I swing the door open, my breath catches at the sight of Adrian.

He looks good.

Of course, he wouldn’t show up to this thing in a basic black tux. He’s wearing a tailored navy suit with a bold floral-print jacket. He swapped his typical gold chains for silver, glinting against the white dress shirt and navy bow tie. His curls have been nicely shaped with hair product, cascading perfectly across his forehead.

I realize I’m not breathing, so I exhale as I draw my eyes up to his.

I’d swear he’s not breathing either. That melted-chocolate look is back in his eyes—scratch that. It’s more like a blazing furnace behind the dark brown irises, and I’m suddenly very warm.

“If this isn’t fancy enough, I apologize for blowing two hundred dollars on your credit card only to wind up embarrassing you,” I joke, trying to remind my lungs to do their job.

Adrian swallows hard before smiling. “If anyone thinks we aren’t fancy enough, we’ll blow that joint for sushi. Because you’re stunning. Beyond stunning. What’s an English term for ‘more than stunning’? Guapísima.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I say, smiling.

He holds out the crook of his arm, and I loop my hand through, even though we’re only taking a few steps before I’ll have to lock the door behind us. As I go onto the porch and turn to the door, my skin prickles with awareness of Adrian’s body inches away from mine. I tell my unruly hormones to pull themselves together before I turn around. He offers his hand to help me down the front steps, then opens the passenger door of his bright orange sports car.

I raise an eyebrow. “Not afraid to stand out tonight, huh?”

“I’m with you. Standing out is inevitable,” he says. He’s quick to give me a mischievous smile and adds, “Besides, I’d like to see you try to climb into the truck in that dress. We’d never make it to the gala.”

Smacking his chest, I lower myself into the car and gather my dress out of the way of the door. Adrian closes it gently and gets in the driver’s side. He puts on a pair of sunglasses and revs the engine. “Ready?”

“Let’s go,” I reply. Adrian grins as he pulls out of the driveway.

I focus on breathing, since my lungs are still taking an extended hiatus from work. Probably because this dress is on the tight side.

That has to be it.