Finally. Finally, after months of watching you, following you, learning you, studying you. He has a date.

He played it real casual. His initial ideas of surprising you in your own apartment with a lavish dinner seemed a bit… too intense.

Instead he did it lowkey. Went to your usual coffeeshop, “accidentally” got your go-to order and asked if you wanted it instead. Then he got talking to you.

God, his heart had been pounding the entire time. He was actually talking to you, finally. You were just as funny and charming as he had observed from afar, but now that breathtaking smile was directed at him.

So, he had asked you out. And here you were, sitting across from him in a lavish restaurant after ordering your food. He was a bit smug that he had picked a restaurant he knew you would like.

But now things were falling apart… just a little. Because he just couldn’t keep his dumb mouth closed. First, he knew your wine preference, and chalked it up to a good guess.

Of course it didn’t stop there. He kept mentioning stuff he absolutely should not know. Hobbies, interests, past jobs… He couldn’t stop himself, because he just wanted to bond!

But he could tell you were getting freaked out, and before the appetizers had even arrived he caught you slowly packing your stuff in your bag.

His throat threatened to close up. No, no, no… He was messing this all up. “You’re ditching me?”

Your excuse, that you had to feed the dog, was bullshit. He knew, because the dog would have noticed all those times he had been in your apartment.

“You don’t have a dog,” Keegan corrected before he could think better of it. Because he should not know that.

Fuck.