He leans forward, swiping the candy bar off the table and tearing open the top of the packaging. “It was until I had to entertain all your guests. You’re welcome.” He pushes the top of the first two bars out of the packaging, holding it out to me.
“Were flowers too cliché?” I slide out one of the bars.
He takes the other and puts the candy bar back on the table. Then he holds out his bar toward me as if it’s a glass of champagne and there’s something to cheers to. I knock my bar with his and get rewarded with one of his swoon-worthy smiles.
“I never understood flowers at a funeral.” He props his feet up on the empty chair in front of him, crossing his ankles. “Why would I give someone who’s grieving something that’s inevitably going to die a week later?”
His teeth sink into the chocolate and caramel, and my gaze snags on the vision. I attempt to deny the memory of those lips on mine. In my top five worst decisions ever, that night battles for the top spot.
“I think flowers are supposed to make something beautiful out of a sad day.”
He scoffs, biting off another piece. “I hope when I die, people aren’t commenting on how beautiful the roses strewn over my casket are as I’m being lowered into the ground.”
I laugh and instantly place my hand over my mouth.
“Don’t do that.” He pops the last piece into his mouth.
My forehead wrinkles. “Do what?”
“Act like it’s shameful to laugh.”
“It is a funeral.”
“So, all our other emotions besides grief aren’t supposed to exist anymore?” He arches a brown eyebrow.
“I’m pretty sure you were brought up with manners.”
“Are the funeral police going to come and get you because I made you laugh?” He gives me a cocky grin.
I tilt my head. “Still conceited, huh?”
“When it comes to making people laugh when they’re having a shit day, yeah.”
I don’t say anything because I’m unsure what to say. I’ll still feel guilty for laughing, knowing Sky never will again.
“Besides, if I were the funeral police, I probably wouldn’t have shown up.” There’s an edge to his voice.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs and cracks his neck, moving it right and left. “I’m here because I can be a distraction, which is why Callie called me, but I almost didn’t come because I’m pissed at her right now.”
Embarrassment makes my cheeks heat. I’m sure he had ten better things to do than show up here today. “She shouldn’t have called you. I’m sorry for ruining your day.”
He stops mid-neck crack, turning to look at me. It’s been half a lifetime since I’ve spent any real time with him, so I can’t read his expression as well as I used to. “Ruin my day? Fuck, Leighton, I’m pissed that she waited until now to tell me what happened. I would’ve been at the actual funeral had I known.”
My cheeks heat even hotter from wishing he had been there. “Oh.”
“I knew Sky in high school.”
The flush dies. Of course… how stupid to think he would show up for any other reason than to mourn a classmate’s tragic death.
“I gotta say, this isn’t where I thought she’d end up.” He scans the backyard, taking in the perfect landscaping, the swing set in the corner of their small yard, and painted rocks lining the deck’s ledge.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought she’d be some band’s groupie or something. I remember her being pretty wild. The parties she used to throw.” He shakes his head and chuckles, then faces me again. His smile fades, and I hate that he’s giving me the same look as everyone else in that house. “Tough gig, huh?”
“Gig?” I repeat, still not wanting to address my new reality.
