“Don’t freak out.” I stop in my tracks, my hand on my doorknob. “Well, that’s one way to get me to freak out.” “She’s on a date, and the guy is being a creep, making her uncomfortable. She’s at Sullivan’s on eighth.” She’s on a date? My mouth goes dry as rage seeps through every pore of my body. Don’t get me started on how I feel about her being on a date, especially after she told me our date was the first one she’d been on, but
