Guhhhhh. Guddle. He’s so hot and humble. Bree better acknowledge how hard he’s trying. If she doesn’t thank him for the walking tour, I might have to stand up on the table and wave my arms to get her attention. Also, it’s both intoxicating and strange to hear him talking, live and in the flesh. I’ve been listening to his recording on nights when I can’t sleep and his smooth, elegant voice always lulls me into a sense of peace.

“It’s brilliant really, this place focusing on cheese. When I was in Switzerland, you could order a plate of cheese—”

“Swiss cheese?” Bree interrupts.

“Exactly!” he says (points for enthusiasm). “And with a side of fruit it makes for a perfect meal, so I’m glad you suggested this.”

“Thanks for giving it a try.”

My daydream about Jude hiking the Swiss Alps shirtless is interrupted by the arrival of their appetizer: cheese curds. Jude picks up four small pieces and . . . juggles them. It’s charming and unexpected, and Bree laughs. Score another one for Jude!

He flounders and drops two on the floor. Bree bends down.

“Five second rule,” she declares.

“One, two, three, four, five,” Jude says.

Crouched on the floor, Bree looks up at him.

“Six,” he adds, ominously.

She pops one in her mouth, eats it, and swallows.

“I live on the edge, baby,” she says with a wink, and returns to her seat.

He laughs and raises his hand for a high-five and I no longer know what I’m witnessing. If my date essentially licked the floor of a public restaurant, that would be a problem for me. Either the five (or six) second rule also exists in Scottish childhoods, or he has no intention of kissing her later? (Or ever, one can hope?)

“Do you have any female clients?” Bree asks, eerily echoing my own thoughts from earlier. “Are most of them ramping up for some big event, or summer bikinis, or is that a myth?”

“I mostly work with blokes to be honest, but there certainly is a lot of eye candy at the job in general.”

That’s a bit . . . odd to mention. How he likes to ogle women at the gym. I mean, it’s not offensive exactly, because of course we all like to check out attractive people, especially if they’re a bit sweaty and working their bodies into a frenzy in spandex, but—

“Wouldn’t it be the worst if you were, like, watching a super foxy girl, just a perfect specimen, running on the treadmill next to you and she suddenly let loose with a big ol’ fart?” Bree says with a giggle. Then she does a sound effect. A SOUND EFFECT.

I almost spit out my food. Jesus Christ. She’s just thrown her Future Honesty at him. The future is now, apparently.