“Anyway. Here.” An amazed laugh sputters out of my mouth when he holds out a crumpled daisy. It must have been crammed in his jacket pocket this whole time. It’s not in great shape, this poor flower. “Oh my God. You’re bringing me apology flowers again? Can’t you ever apologize without all the pageantry?” He smirks at me. “It’s not an apology flower. It’s to celebrate National Dessert Day.” “That is not a real day.” “Yup. I looked it up.”
