“You think so?” I ask with a small sigh. I'm not fishing for compliments or anything, but I could use some serious moral support. The way Paxton's jaw is wired shut, the muscles in his neck and cheeks twitching with tension, I can tell the next few days aren't exactly going to be a cakewalk. I imagine that he won't be the only person under scrutiny; he's already told me he's going to introduce me as his girlfriend. “Prettiest girl I've ever seen,” Copeland says, the expression too serious to question the validity of his words.
