"It's a date," says Keys, loading up a forkful and popping it inot his mouth. He groans softly as he chews. "Seriously," he says, reaching for his glass and taking a sip of his wine. His knee bumps against hers under the table. "I guess cooking was a good way to keep yourself occupied?"

He'd basically learned to cook so that he wasn't living entirely as a stereotype. So many guys he knows live on coffee and take-out sushi.