Bradley sat at his usual spot— the piano bench. He crooned to the sweet melody of Piano Man, the whole bar singing along, including you:

When he ended, he spotted you, ogling at him and gnawing on the straw in your glass.

The aviator grinned, his sunglasses tilting down so his green eyes would meet yours.

He approached you within a matter of seconds, arms crossed over his pecs.

“Bradley. And you?” He hummed, his ego boosted just by the sight of you looking at him.