What if the best evenings are without a plan?

We're so used to controlling everything.
Schedules. Plans. Timetables.

But the warmest evenings of my life
never started according to plan.

They began with a simple:
"Let's just..."

I like men who know how to let go of control.
Who aren't afraid that someone will suddenly steal their evening.
Because sometimes that's where true pleasure lies—allowing yourself to be spontaneous.

No explaining.
No making excuses.
Just being there because you want to be.

Would you let someone steal your evening?