I hear his low chuckle and keep pedaling, wanting to get closer to the farm. Pulling into its parking lot a moment later, I follow the signs to where we can leave our fire engine red retro bikes marked with the motel logo in front.
“Well, that was fun,” I declare excitedly as I pull my phone out of my pocket and drop it. “Oh, crap.”
Spade bends down, picking it up without me even asking. He checks the screen and hands it to me. “It should be good, so no need for a phone repair shop tomorrow.”
“Thank God, as I really don’t have a budget for a new phone screen.”
“I could have helped.”
“No, you have already paid most of our expenses today. I can’t—”
“You know, I was the one who invited you on this trip, so I’m going to be paying for it,” he reasons with me.
“Well, when you put it like that, I guess it’s okay.”
“Good, because now we can get moving,” Spade says, rubbing a spot on his…well, butt cheek.
“Um, Spade, everything okay?”
“Yeah, that damn saddle was just too narrow for my bigger, um, backside,” he answers, and I notice his cheeks turning red.
“I happen to like your bigger backside.”
After the words leave my lips, I slam my palm in front of my mouth. The silence after my comment is cut short by his surprised laugh. “Well, thanks, I guess?”
Before it gets too awkward, I start walking toward the ticketing booth painted bright yellow. Spade catches up with a few steps and takes hold of my hand, leading us like I imagine dates do.
The truth is that I have never been on a date before unless you count movie dates back in high school—those have been my only dating experiences. But after my parents’ accident, I didn’t go out with anyone because I wanted to put my focus and energy on raising my brother. The only men I have touched since becoming his guardian have been for one night only. Not that there have been many, anyway.
As we walk into the sunflower field after paying the entrance fee, the scent of the flowers and soil fills up my nostrils. I hear people talking and laughing, birds singing and the leaves moving with the gentle wind. Spinning around in a full circle, I confirm that we’re surrounded by a sea of golden petals. The scene is nothing like I have experienced before, and I love it.
“You know what's sad?” Spade asks me quietly as he also glances around us, admiring our surroundings like I do.
“I have a feeling I'll know soon,” I whisper back gleefully.
“I once saw this video of a guy giving men roses on Instagram. Each flower had a message. Guess what it said?”
“It's something cheesy, isn't it?”
“No.” He finally turns his head to look at me. “The card saidmost men don't get their first flowers until their funeral.”
“Oh.”
“Exactly. After seeing that, I got my dad and best male friends flowers. And they all said how it was such a special gift.”
His words hit me hard. I swallow down the tightness in my throat, thinking about how that must be the truth about my father and other men in my life. “Have you ever gotten flowers?”
His smile is bashful, making me overcome with emotion. I blink behind my sunglasses, trying to control my reaction while he tells me, “Almost every single one of them bought me flowers on my next birthday. I could have started my own flower shop with all those beautiful, colorful bouquets. So, yeah, I have. But I wouldn’t mind getting more.”
I need to remember that little thing about him. ”Sounds like you’ve got some really great friends.”
“I do. I’m lucky like that. One of my best friends, King, owns the tattoo shop chain where I work. We met fifteen years ago when I applied to work for him in Chicago.”
“King?”
“Ethan’s last name is Kingston, so it just got shortened over time, and everyone knows him as King,” Spade explains.
“How about your other friends?”
