Ill-timed, but Uncontrollable

I am newly twitterpated. Mr. So-Good-On-First-Date, I had a fleeting moment where I understood why some might be so quick to jump on a plane to Vegas.
We went for a winter walk to half admire, half make fun of the Christmas lights. We gave hot apple cider to the homeless guy that asked us for change. We talked for hours and hours until the wee hours of the morning.
He's so good on paper - firefighter, in the process of adopting an abused half-German Shephard half-Lab puppy. She's only six weeks old and was found basically beaten to within an inch of her life. He's handy and is a ticketed auto mechanic. He's from BC, a Canucks fan, a go-cart enthusiast AND a hobby photographer. We both shoot with Nikon cameras and are snobs about them. He wants to go skydiving. He likes artsy films and has seen more of Stanley Kubrick's films than I have. We have the same favorite movies and his mom is a quilter (my mom isn't a quilter, but a home made quilt is the thing I covet most in the world). He brought me a single red rose.
We played the scar game, which is rather sexy, really. You know...like the I'll show you mine if you show me yours but re: scars. He beat me with a dirt bike accident induced compound fracture/skin graft.
But with exams right around the corner...I just don't know. This is NOT a great time.