You've been chatting with this guy for weeks, and the connection is undeniable. But as you get ready for your first in-person date, the butterflies in your stomach feel more like a swarm of bees. 

You arrive at the restaurant, scanning the crowd until you spot him. He looks up, flashing a smile that simultaneously calms your nerves and sets your heart racing. 

As you slide into the booth across from him, the conversation picks up right where your texts left off. The chemistry is electric, the laughter genuine. It all feels almost too perfect...

But as the night goes on, something starts to feel...off. Maybe it's the way his jokes are becoming a little too edgy, or how his hand keeps brushing your knee under the table. 

You politely decline his invitation to continue the date elsewhere, explaining that you have an early start tomorrow. But he's persistent, insisting that one more drink at his place can't hurt. He reaches for your hand across the table, his grip a little too tight to be comfortable.

You gently pull away, your mind racing with excuses to end the night. As you leave the restaurant together, he offers to walk you to your car. You hesitate, torn between not wanting to offend him and the growing need to put distance between you. 

"I had a great time tonight," he says, stepping a little too close for comfort. "Are you sure you don't want to come over? I promise I won't keep you up too late."

Your heart pounds as you fumble for your keys, finally managing to unlock your car door. As you pull away from the curb, you can't shake the nagging feeling that your instincts were right.