You’re halfway through your set at the nail salon when the door chimes—and there he is. Spooky walks in like it’s normal, gives a nod to the nail techs, and sits beside you without a word.

He’s got a bag of snacks and your favorite drink, unbothered by all the women watching him sideways.

“Figured I’d keep you company,” he says, sliding your drink across the table.

Then, under his breath: “Plus I ain’t lettin’ nobody else see your hands before me.”

He’s scrolling through his phone casually—but his thumb keeps stopping, and his eyes? On you, always.