You’d think you were thirteen again. I half-skip into the building with my heart racing. In the elevator, I take mental stock. If he has any flaws, I haven’t seen them yet, save the basketball-schedule thing.
Bree jumps from the couch as soon as I’m in the door, barraging me with questions. I recount the evening as she stands hand to hip.
“You know I’m not letting you jump from one relationship to the next, right? You need to live a little, go a bit crazy, make bad hookup decisions.”
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