Page 17 of On The Run

Once we were both settled into the SUV, I picked up the discussion about music again. It was an easy starter conversation for a first date.

“So, Sex Pistols?”Damn, Max, very smooth.It’d been way too long since I’d done this.

Aiden didn’t pick up on my awkwardness, though, and jumped right into the subject. It was a subject he was clearly passionate about. “Yeah! I love all punk and punk rock. Underground stuff too.”

“What got you into that?” I asked as I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “No offense, but you don’t see people your age into that too often.”

“From my pops,” he told me. I didn’t want to think about it too hard, but his dad was probably closer to my age than I was to Aiden’s. At least it seemed like he knew about the date, so it wasn’t something Aiden was hiding. I wondered how much his dad knew about me. “Pops has always been heavily into the underground scene.” Aiden smiled dreamily, like he was lost in a memory. “I grew up on the stuff.”

I could tell how close he was to his dad. He hadn’t talked at all about another parent, or anyone else, really, so I was curious if it was just the two of them, but it seemed too soon to ask.

“Have you ever been to a show?” I asked instead.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him slouch a bit and look out the window. “No. Growing up, it wasn’t always easy, and we just didn’t have the money for anything extra. And then, once we got to a decent place, Pops got sick and that’s been the priority.”

I wanted to take his hand, give him some comfort, but I didn’t know if it would be welcome, so I resisted the urge. “I’m sure that’s been hard.”

Aiden shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. But it’s always been hard. At least he has good insurance now and a job that actually seems to give a shit about him, so it could be worse. Pops has always been a fighter. He’ll get through this.”

I wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince me or himself, but I couldn’t help it. I put my hand palm up on the center console. I saw him side-eyeing it. I didn’t say anything, just let him make the decision himself whether he’d take that step. I resisted the urge to cheer out loud when I felt his slender hand in mine.

I didn’t do anything. Didn’t make a big deal about it. I could still feel his eyes staring at our joined hands and I was dying to know what he was thinking. He didn’t remove his hand though. So, it was a win. I continued the conversation.

“I hope you’ll be able to go one day—to a show. I was dragged along with my sister once. I actually had a good time, even if I was way too young.”

Aiden laughed, and it sounded so good. “When we were living in New Jersey, this band my pops really liked was playing in this venue right off the beach. It was super famous, known for discovering bands and artists. Apparently, Bruce Springsteen got his start there.” Aiden shrugged. “Anyway, we couldn’t afford tickets, but you could hear the music from the beach since the venue was so close. So, Pops bundled me up in like five jackets since it was only March, got a blanket, and set us up on the sand. We had ourselves a picnic and listened to the band play live. I know Pops was a little sad he couldn’t see them, but as a kid, I thought it was amazing. It’s one of my favorite memories.”

I pushed down a wave of emotion as I squeezed his hand. All I wanted to do now was pull out my phone and buy tickets to the first show I could find for Aiden and his dad. I’d been lucky, and while my parents weren’t filthy rich, we’d always had more than enough. My sisters and I always got to do anything we wanted to without having to worry. I couldn’t imagine what Aiden had gone through growing up, but it at least seemed like he was loved.

My sanity came back to me before I pulled over on the side of the road and did just that. This was a first date, for Christ’s sake. And from the little bit I knew about Aiden, he seemed like a prideful man. I wasn’t sure he’d appreciate the gesture from a virtual stranger, even one with good intentions.

So instead, I kept the conversation light as we drove the rest of the way to the restaurant, regaling him with the latest Gray stories. Like usual, I got caught up in my son and kept the stream of tales up until we got there and were seated at a small table toward the back.

Most people would be bored to tears by now, but not Aiden. He seemed absolutely fascinated by Gray and was not only listening but asking questions and engaging in my favorite topic these days: my son. There used to be a time when I had other interests, but those seemed to go by the wayside in the last year. I didn’t mind, though, because Gray brought a light to my life I didn’t realize I was missing.

We paused in the conversation to look at the menu. I could see panic in Aiden’s eyes as he scanned the choices, his eyes getting wider and wider as he flipped through.

“Aiden, what’s the matter?” I asked finally.

He jerked his head up toward me. “What? Nothing. I’m good.” I could hear the falseness of his words in his tone and see it in the forced smile.

I couldn’t decide if it was the prices or the food itself that had him in a panic. The restaurant wasn’t too expensive, but for someone who’d struggled with finances, it could be more than expected. I had no intentions of letting him pay, but I didn’t know how to say that without embarrassing him, if that was his worry.

I decided to go with the food possibility first. That was easier to navigate. “I remember you said you’d never had Thai food before. Would you like some recommendations?”

Aiden’s shoulders relaxed and he put his menu down on the table, looking outright relieved. “Yes, please. Um, can you just order for me?” His cheeks reddened and he looked down at his lap. “I don’t really know what most of this means. I’m not picky. Whatever you like will be perfect.”

I pursed my lips, considering him. The caveman part inside me fucking loved the idea of ordering for him, but I still wanted him to be happy. “I can do that if it makes you more comfortable. Do you have any allergies?”

The happy go-lucky man I usually saw at the café was back so quickly, it gave me whiplash. I wondered which one was the real Aiden. “Nope. No allergies. I am rarely sick. I got lucky with that.”

He seemed so proud of himself, affection built inside me. “That’s great. No food allergies here, either. I am allergic to pollen and mold though.”

Aiden wrinkled his nose and damn, could he get any cuter? The gesture caused his septum piercing to tilt up, and he adjusted it without thinking about it. “Isn’t everyone allergic to mold?”

I shrugged. “Kind of. But everything is exasperated and happens much quicker with me. For most people, mold only affects you with prolonged or overexposure. For me, it’s instant. My eyes get all itchy and watery, and it’s hard to breathe. It kind of feels like asthma.”

Aiden’s eyes widened. “Oh, wow. I didn’t realize that.” He opened his mouth to ask more questions, presumably, and then closed it. He shook his head with a small chuckle. “I have more questions, but talking about mold is probably not the best when we’re trying to order food.”

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