Of course

Emma Stone had seemed to take a liking to you, so why wouldn't you hang out with her for a little while longer?

Sure, she had a boyfriend and all that, but there seemed to be something in the way she looked at you that made you think something was going to happen between the two of you that night.

"Come on, let's go get a booth all to ourselves John," she tells you, grabbing you by the arm and leading you away as both of you sip on the drinks you were currently working on.

"Had to get you away from the "pap"," she tells you, squeezing your arm and winking at you as you sit down at the table together, referring to the paparazzi, "we wouldn't want to give them something to talk about now, would we?"

"We could Emma, I wouldn't mind," you joke with her, Emma laughing and moving in a little closer to you in response, her head basically on your shoulder as you move deeper into conversation.

There was really no denying how well this was going now, you tell yourself, so don't do anything stupid and you're probably going to get to fuck her later.

"There's something about you that I can't explain John," she tells you as you share yet another drink, your hand now resting on her thigh as she rests her head on your shoulder, "but whatever it is, if you keep doing it, I'll probably take you home with me tonight."