Emma had been ecstatic when Neal had surprised her with two tickets to see the Knicks game that night. The Garden was packed, every seat in their vicinity filled and the constant buzzing of the crowd humming in her ears. There was even a man to her left, right up against the railing, presumably unaccompanied but still just as excited to see the (slowly recovering) team live.

But for all her enthusiasm, Emma still felt somewhat on edge. Her date — the first boy she had dated as soon as she got out of the system, lost touch with shortly after, then reunited with several years later — seemed distracted. Any attempts on her part to cheer him up (funny faces in between plays, rubbing his arm whenever they landed a three-pointer, offering him sips of her watered down soda) failed and eventually his disinterest became something she had to try more and more to ignore.

It was safe to say the date wasn't going well.

It was half time and Neal had just returned to his seat, phone glued to his hand and eyes fixated on the screen. "You ok?" she greeted him warmly, sitting up a bit straighter when he glanced in her direction.

"Yeah, fine," he mumbled, thumb gliding along to scroll through the article he was reading.

Emma could barely hear the huffed exhale of the other man sitting next to her, momentarily embarrassed that her rejection hadn't gone completely unnoticed. She had half a mind to just grab the damn thing and hurl it across the stadium, but she settled for rolling her eyes and clutching the arm rest a little tighter.

Then she heard the familiar beginnings of one of her favorite Hall & Oates songs coming from the loud speakers, its volume gradually increasing. Emma looked up at the giant monitor that hung right above the court. The Kiss Cam had started to make its rounds and she clapped along with the rest of the fans in attendance. First an adorable old married couple, next two teens with matching jerseys and caps, and then it landed on her and Neal.

Emma's face lit up, her previous annoyance forgotten as she turned to him while pointing frantically at the huge television panel. "Look, it's us!"

But when she looked over, her stomach dropped when she realized he was still enraptured in his goddamn phone. She shook him, trying to get his attention but was only met with a bored expression (and was that a hint of indignation she detected?).

The crowd groaned on her behalf as she scoffed, Neal returning to his previous activity as Emma peaked over her shoulder to spot a pair of stunning blue eyes staring back. The man, who was leaning casually against the railing and had a remarkable amount of confidence for someone who had gone to a basketball game by himself, smirked and leaned forward just as Emma gave a shrug and drew closer to him as well. It was like an unspoken agreement, so much communicated between the two with just a look: you have every reason to be upset, he's an idiot, you deserve so much better.

He cupped the side of her face and Emma rested one hand on his (unsurprisingly firm) chest while the other gripped at his short black hair, and suddenly their lips were meeting in a passionate kiss. The arena went wild at the display as their make out session dragged on, her fingernails scraping his scalp while he guided her head in the opposite direction, playfully nipping at her bottom lip as she parted her mouth on a gasp. This guy was good.

His scruff tickled Emma's cheek when they reluctantly parted, her forehead resting on his as they caught their breaths, only vaguely aware of the cacophony surrounding them.

She felt an insistent finger tapping at her back and turned around, unapologetic and grinning mischievously. Neal cleared his throat but Emma spoke before he could. "What? Out of battery?"

The man — whose leather jacket was still firmly in her grasp — chuckled deeply, brushing his thigh against hers in support and amusement. Neal said nothing, sinking further into his seat, barely registering the Kiss Cam's disappearance and the start of the third quarter.

"Bloody brilliant," he whispered into her ear, sending a pleasant chill down her spine. Hand in hand, they exited Madison Square Garden minutes later.

As the crisp January air filled her lungs, Emma found she couldn't stop giggling (and her new companion was equally as giddy). "I never caught you name, lass," he said, stepping nearer to her, his hips angled towards her as he swayed. "What is it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," she replied, biting her lip, hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans.

"Yes, love. As a matter of fact," he breathed, mouth ghosting over hers. "I would."

"I'll tell you over drinks."

Emma and Killian — whose name she would later find out — went on their first date that night, and it definitely went well.

.