Cal

She changed, fixed her hair, and did something different to her face. 

All for our date.

It puts an anxious tickle in my stomach. You know the type—the kind you get when you're excited about what's going to happen. That little flutter at knowing someone did something and it feels as if it's specifically for you. 

"You look amazing,” I say.

Her cheeks pinken. "You're just saying that because I'm your baby mama."

At ...