Joe Keery Imagines

Innocent Nerves-Joe Keery

Requested by hoeforthejoes

"Babe?!"

"Yeah!" Joe called out. "I'm ready when you are, gorgeous."

"I'm almost ready, but I need a little help."

"Help?" Joe laughed as he walked into our room. I looked up when I heard him take in a short breath. "Wow," he said under his breath. "You look gorgeous."

"Thanks," I chuckled.

"You needed my help?" He asked, clearing his throat. I turned around and he laughed. "Got it."

He walked up behind me and finished zipping my dress. When he was done, he leaned down and kissed my shoulder.

"You look beautiful, baby," he whispered.

"You told me to dress for a special dinner," I whispered back. He rested his chin on my shoulder and smirked at me.

"A special dinner that we're going to be late for."

He grabbed my hand, spinning me around and leading me out of the house. We relaxed in his car, soft music playing as Joe drove to the restaurant. I smiled, sitting up straighter when I saw where he had taken us.

"Grimaldi's?" I asked, turning toward him as he pulled up to the valet. "I thought this place was impossible to get a reservation."

"It is," he said, turning the car off. He looked over at me with a smirk on his face. "Unless you have connections. Which I do."

I leaned across the console and pressed my lips to his. He laughed as he reached up and gently placed his hand on the back of my neck, deepening the kiss.

"I love you," he whispered, breaking the kiss.

"I'm starving."

"Okay," he laughed. I grabbed his hand before he could get out of the car.

"I love you too, Joe."

* * * * *

"This is ridiculous!"

We've been waiting for our table for about forty-five minutes. I was fine, but Joe was starting to get antsy.

"It's okay," I said under my breath.

"It's not okay," he said through his teeth. I reached over and put my hand on his knee.

"It's a five-star restaurant that's always busy," I whispered. "It's not a big deal. We can wait."

"But. . ."

"Baby," I sighed, "why are you in such a rush? It's just dinner."

"It's not. . ."

I sat up straighter when he cut himself off. "You're right," he sighed. "I'm just. . . I'm hungry."

I knew he was holding something back, but I ignored it. Well, I tried to at least. When we finally got our table, Joe let out a sigh of relief that was so big, you would've thought he was just told he didn't have cancer.

Throughout dinner, Joe was off. He was fidgety. He kept nervously wiping his hands on his napkin. He struggled to maintain eye contact with me for longer than ten seconds. And whenever I ask him why he seemed jumpy, he just laughed it off and nervously pushed his food around his plate.

We had just finished our entrees when Joe looked at his watch. Something about the way he seemed so eager to leave made my stomach sink.

"Are you late for something?" I asked, wiping my mouth and putting my napkin to the side.