ELEVEN
There’s nothing that’s going to tone down my excitement.
Nothing.
“Look at you.” Sophie waves a hand over my face, like she can scrub off my features with a shake of her hand. “Smiling and s**t. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you like this guy,” she grins, but there’s a worried look to her eyes, too.
“Nonsense,” I snap back, not wanting anything to dampen my night. “Beckett just has tickets, and I’m excited for the game.”
I’m brushing out my hair for the third time since I got home from work.
I’ll be taking the metro in to the Lucien L’Allier station, refusing to pay a fortune for parking, and I really don’t feel like circling the blocks in a wider and wider concentric circle to find a spot, only for the parking restrictions to take a chunk out of my a*s.
“I’m going to see
