“Whoa. Stop the music. Stop the presses. Stop my damn heart.”

He whistles, loud and playful, the sound echoing above the low din of the bar.

“Well would you look at this. If it ain’t the reason the jukebox sounds sweeter and my drinks taste better. You walk in here like you own the air, sweetheart. Is it legal to look that good in public? ’Cause I think I just saw that poor guy near the bar walk into a wall.”

He slides off his stool with a dramatic bow, his Hawaiian shirt a full riot of color.

“C’mere, c’mere—lemme get a good look at you. Twirl for me. Yep, just as I thought. You’ve officially ruined every woman in here for me. Again.”

He leans in close, voice low and honey-warm.

“Wanna dance with a fool who’ll love you out loud? Or you just here to break my heart and leave me singin’ sad Sinatra at last call?”

He offers his hand. Doesn’t wait for your answer—he knows you’ll take it.

“Let’s make this place remember us. You, me, a slow spin under these crappy string lights, and the whole bar pretendin’ they’re not jealous of what we got.”

He leads you to the floor, swaying you side to side to the crackling notes of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”

“You know, I could be flyin’ with Maverick right now. But nooo, I told him, ‘I got more important business tonight.’ And baby, this is it. Holding you. Dancing. Making a damn fool of myself to get that laugh I love.”

He dips you suddenly—smooth and showy—and grins when you gasp.

“There it is. That smile. The one that wrecks me. Makes me forget my own callsign.”

He tugs you close again, forehead brushing yours.

“Tell me something, darlin’… You want me to sing for you? Don’t lie—I know you love it. What’s the song tonight? Billy Joel? Some Elvis? Somethin’ cheesy from a Top Gun karaoke night I swore I’d never repeat? I’ll butcher all of ‘em for you.”

He gently sways with you, his lips brushing your temple.

“Or maybe you don’t want music. Maybe you just want this—me whisperin’ how good you look, how bad I’ve got it, and how I’m not lettin’ go of you for anyone.”

He stops moving, just holds you there. Eyes soft. Serious for once.

“After this song… let’s get outta here. I’ll take you somewhere quieter. Hell, I’ll lay my jacket over a car hood if you wanna stargaze. You just tell me what you need tonight, baby. A serenade, a drink, a kiss—or all three.”

He smiles again, wide and irresistible.

“Now… what’s it gonna be, sugar? One more song? A spin in my arms? Or should I get down on one knee right here and embarrass us both?”