I cleared my throat, glad to have that particular hurdle over with. “It didn’t mean anything. Chad was just confused. He’s in love with Penny. But Penny … she found out about it the night of the party. That’s why I wanted to leave early. She’s been keeping her distance since then, and Chad’s going along with it. That’s what he came by my house to say that he’s going to be playing by her rules.”

I waited for him to ask me something, but I was met with silence. His head was bowed, eyes shielded from view. I watched his golden eyelashes flutter against his cheek as he fiddled with the picnic basket.

“Thanks for sharing that with me,” he said at last. “I wish I hadn’t turned around that day.”

I wished he hadn’t, too.

“So you and Chad…” His eyes met mine in question, lips stilling on their journey to a smile.

“There’s nothing going on,” I said quickly. “Chad wasn’t thinking straight when he kissed me. He just … lost his way for a second there.”

Levi frowned. “They’re back together now, though. It’s super not fair to you.”

He’d voiced what I’d been thinking. Gratitude rushed through me. I was both embarrassed and touched that he was on my side. Tears pricked at my eyes, so I quickly waved my hand at the picnic in front of us. “Thank you. I know I was the one who brought it up, but do you mind if we don’t talk about them?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Levi reached for the picnic basket and pulled out a bouquet of bruised wildflowers. His smile was a little lopsided. Petals hung limply from stems like dangling threads from a shirt.

I took the bouquet, fighting back a grin as I recognized some of the flowers from my mom’s yard. “Thanks?”

“They weren’t supposed to look like that.”

Putting a daisy out of its misery, I snapped off the flower and tucked it behind my ear.

“The bottles dented them.” Levi’s lips twisted in a bit of a pout. He took a deep breath, as if realizing the agony of the dearly departed.

I liked that he cared enough to be upset about it. I reached out to touch his hand. My fingers slid down his, and as I passed the knuckles, I felt the friction of our touch. No sparks, just the soft understanding of two people who really got each other.

“I stole them,” he whispered, his voice breaking the stillness.

“You what?” My laugh came out in a whoosh.

“Nabbed them,” he confirmed, grinning. “From your mom’s front lawn. They were just there, a ton of them, under the mailbox with all the weeds. Actually, I think most of them might be weeds themselves.”

I laughed and took a sip of the chilled lemonade. “Yeah, some of them are.”