Travis is still standing in the middle of the gazebo, so I focus on him. He smiles and gives me a tiny shrug. Like he didn’t just blow my mind. Then he raises the microphone again and speaks into it, his eyes locked on me. “Brenden, I know I messed up. So this is me saying I’m sorry. And I miss you. And I hope I can make things right.”

Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod.

“I have a lot more I’d like to say,” he goes on, while I struggle with remembering how to breathe. “Though I hope you’ll come up here and talk to me without this microphone, because I feel ridiculous. But if you want me to keep going for everyone to hear, I will.”

He raises his eyebrows in question, holding out a hand toward me. I want to go to him, but my feet won’t work. I might be a little bit in shock from everything that just happened.

Then May is behind me, shoving me. I turn my head to give her a dirty look as I stumble forward. But once my feet are moving, it’s like there’s nowhere else they can go except right to Travis.

Right where I belong.

My heart is beating wildly in my chest as I make my way up the gazebo steps. Is this real life?

Travis sets down the speaker and microphone and takes my hand. Now we’re standing up here together, with half the town watching us. Some people start murmuring quietly, but I can’t make out what anyone’s saying. And I don’t care.

In this moment, no one exists to me but this incredible man. This man who hates participating in crazy town things, yet organized the most ridiculous, crazy town thing for me as an apology. I would have taken a simple, I’m sorry, but this was way better.

This showed me how much he cares about me. I think he’s always shown me that, actually, in his small, everyday gestures.

But damn. Today he showed everyone.

He lifts our joined hands and presses them to my chest. “So I know you weren’t entirely serious when you said you wanted a flash mob, but I hope you liked it.”

“Are you kidding?” I can’t stop grinning. “This was awesome! I loved it!”

For a second, he simply gazes at me with a fond expression that makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. Like a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven. A homemade chocolate chip cookie.

Then he squeezes my hand tightly and says, “I love you.”

I very quickly stop thinking about cookies. “You... you do?”

“Were you not listening to the song?”

Unable to resist a chance to tease him, I say, “I mean, I was kind of distracted by your terrible voice.”