“I’ve even talked to her,” he said. “Since she met him. We’ve talked, and she acted like nothing was up. That’s the hardest part. I’m telling her I love her while she’s . . .” He stared at the ground without speaking, and I found myself wishing, again, that I could reach out and comfort him in some way. I leaned against the same tree, our shoulders touching like two corners of a square. “Simon. Someone like that—she doesn’t deserve you. You’re such an amazing guy. You’re thoughtful, generous, kind. You see whole people. I think that’s what I like most about you—you don’t see labels or stereotypes; you just see people.” The truth of those words hit me hard. And not just because I felt like Simon hadn’t stereotyped me. I recognized it in his interactions with others too, in the way he spoke about people. He didn’t judge. “Some girl is going to be really lucky to be on the receiving end of all that.”

His mouth curved up into a regretful smile. “Not Karen though.”

I nudged him with my shoulder. “And that’s her loss.”

He took a deep breath. “Listen, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I was angry, but I shouldn’t have snapped at you or said anything about your relationship with Jamie. That was . . . lame.”

“Don’t even worry about it. It’s already forgotten.”

He pushed off the tree. “I think we are officially in last and almost-last place.”

I groaned. “Don’t remind me. Jamie’s gonna wish he picked a different partner.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. I doubt he’ll ever think that.” His eyes met mine, holding my gaze a second longer than necessary. I turned away, moving toward my bike, but his voice called me back. “Lane.”

I looked back, wishing he didn’t make my stomach feel knotted.

“Thank you for listening, and for . . . making me talk about it. It helped.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“And . . . thank you also for what you said. It’s maybe the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s the truth.”

He took a giant step toward his bike—which felt very much like a giant step away from me—and cleared his throat. “Should we go? I promise I’ll let you take the lead.”

We didn’t see anyone else from the group until we hit the bottom of the trail. They were all sitting at the outdoor tables of an ice cream place, halfway through dessert, when we finally rolled in. Jamie looked from me to his brother and raised his eyebrows. I took off my bike helmet and dropped onto the bench beside him, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. He offered me a bite of his ice cream, which I gladly took.