You didn’t expect to be going to a pub with your friend—and yet here you were. Said friend was off doing god knows what while you stood next to the bar, waiting for your drink to be served. At the corner of your eye, there was a man seemingly staring at you.

He approached you, saying, “Why you standing all by yourself? Those shoes were made for dancing with someone else.”

You turn your head to the unfamiliar voice. The tall man stood beside you, a smirk on his lips. He was wearing a maroon button-up shirt with some of the buttons undone to show his collarbones. The way his navy blue hair fell framed his face perfectly, and that tanned skin of his just made him look, quite frankly—hot.

Before you could say anything, he said, “Why don’t we move over to that empty space? I’ll bet you twenty bucks I’ll put a smile on your face.” He proudly offered.