So I didn’t kiss him then, even though I wanted to.

“Let me walk you home,” he said a little while later as I helped him pack away empty containers.

“You don’t have a bike and you’d have to walk all the way uphill in the dark,” I pointed out. My fingers tightened on the handlebars of my bike as I pulled it upright. “Don’t worry about it.”

Levi handed me my bouquet of squashed flowers. “Are you sure?”

I tucked the bouquet into the crook of my arm. Maybe it was a little old-fashioned, but I could picture a young Levi being coached by his father about being a gentleman. Never kissing a girl on the first date, pulling her chair out for her even if she didn’t expect him to, walking her to the door and waiting until she got inside before leaving. His Levi-ness was ingrained in him so true and so solid that I knew I would miss it once it wasn’t mine anymore.

“That’s really sweet of you, but I’m fine getting home alone,” I said. “Honestly, it’s out of your way and I’ve walked home by myself a million times.”

The sun tended to set a little after eight p.m., and that hour had come and gone. Now it was after ten. Only Lorcan was still around, serving late-night drinks to stragglers who loitered on the beach. He sent us a wave as he stamped out the fire and pulled his grate off for cleaning.

“Okay,” said Levi. “Sorry, I know it’s dumb. I just wanted to, I don’t know, end the night right?”

“It’s not dumb.” I smiled at him. “And we did end the night right.”

He slung an arm around my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

“Hey,” I said as we turned to make the trek back into town, “we forgot to look for our sandcastle.”

Levi turned around, scanning the beach. With disappointment, he said, “Kids probably smashed it by now. Or the tide took it away.”

I shook my head. “Sandcastles are sacred in Oar’s Rest, Levi. It’s sacrilegious to destroy one.”

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” said Levi.

We picked our way across the sand, arms bumping as I walked my bike next to me. “Yeah?” I asked.

“I saw something about the fiftieth anniversary of a sandcastle competition.” He ran his free hand through his hair. The picnic basket jogged against the back of my knee. “Would you want to … with me?”

“Do I want to build castles with you?” The butterfly flaps in my stomach beat faster. “I’d love to.”