" I grin at her enthusiasm. “Did you like the little gun-finger I flashed you after that goal? All for you, baby.” She grins back. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but you were actually pointing at the old guy a few seats over. He totally freaked out and started shouting to everyone that you scored that goal for him, and then I heard him ask his wife if maybe you knew that he was just diagnosed with diabetes, so I didn’t have the heart to tell him who the goal was really for.” I break down in laughter. “Why is nothing ever simple with us?” “Hey,” she protests. “We’re more interesting this way.” I can’t argue with that. "