“I like you, too,” I said. Honesty sort of demanded it. And I had left him hanging last week when he’d told me how he felt.

His smile turned shy. “I sort of figured. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

We kept walking, our arms grazing every time one of us veered a little too close. My body hummed in response, tingling with awareness. The first time it happened, I glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. The second time, I wanted to let my fingers casually-on-purpose slide against his, but Levi simply murmured a “Sorry” to me and course-corrected himself.

I waved at some younger kids from high school who were lounging outside the Dairy Bar. Recognition lit up their faces and they eagerly returned my wave between licks of their ice cream cones. Their blueberry streusel ice cream was the best I’d ever tasted, and I made a mental note to bring Levi here.

The Dairy Bar was one of the many establishments along the wide expanse of beach. Mom’s house, Busy’s, and the ice cream shop were close to the wharf. The semicircle of sand allowed someone to stand at one end and see across the water to the other end, with the pier, wharf, rowboats, and fishing trawlers in between.

As we came to a halt in front of a cheerful yellow flower shop, he pointed ahead to a peeling-paint little eatery a few stores ahead of us. A whitewashed piece of driftwood was nailed above the door, with thin hangul brushstrokes spelling out the name of the restaurant.

Levi squinted up at it. “You up for some Korean food?”

The tacos they served would remind me too much of Penny and the last time we’d been there. I could still taste the kimchi on my tongue. Swallowing, I gestured to the beach. “I thought we could try something a little more local.”

“Seafood?”

I nodded, hopping off the cobbled path and onto soft sand. My feet were swallowed by the hungry cling of the beach, warm sand slipping into my flip-flops. Levi fared better in his sturdy sandals. I made a face and pulled off my flip-flops, letting them swing between my fingers.

He let silence descend before breaking it. “Have you lived here your whole life?”

I made my way through a cluster of sandcastles. “Yeah. Born and raised.”

“Must be nice. This place is like paradise.”

I glanced at him, watching his eyes flutter closed. “Close enough. It’s home.”

“Never wanted to leave?”

“Would you?”

“Fair enough,” Levi said, laughing.

I gave him a good-natured shoulder bump. “Come on, let’s get some grub.” I pointed to a little shanty about a hundred feet ahead of us. “I hope you’re hungry, because this place definitely does not skimp.”