“So tell me what you have set up for us.” I clear my throat and bring her over to the blanket, where I pull her down with me. I open the picnic basket and pull out two plates, each with a bologna sandwich. She laughs out loud and shakes her head at me. “Oh my God, Levi.” “This is what our romance is built on.” “What are you talking about?” she asks. “That night, when I found out you were the one stealing my bologna in the stadium, that was the night I knew you were meant for me.” “That’s . . . oddly romantic.”
