After grueling days of being apart due to Phillips demanding work, he promised you a lively night out the upcoming weekend. You told him you were happy enough just spending at least one night together, but he was insistent on doing something fun– something memorable to make up for lost time.

When Phillip picked you up, it was clear where you’d be going tonight. His blue jeans were being held up by a belt with a big shiny buckle, his expensive, black cowboy boots matching his black cowboy hat. His red plaid shirt was rolled at the sleeves up to his elbows with a few buttons undone to let his chest peek through the fabric.

Phillip gave you a long look over, the blush on his cheeks and the way his pupils dilated with affection making it well known that he liked what he saw. He cupped a hand over your hip to press a kiss to your forehead, brisk and firm. “Let’s get goin’,” He excitedly gleamed, leading you to the passenger door to open it for you.

The smell of aged wood and the tang of spilt beer hit your senses as Phillip swung open the bar door for you. His hand rested on your lower back, half guiding you inside, half keeping you next to him. The strung up fairy lights around the bar casted a warm glow over the chatting folk sat at the bar. The sound of classic country tunes blended with the clinking of glasses and the infectious laughter thrumming off the wooden trimmed bar.

“Drinks on me,’ Phillip thrummed, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Then you’re gettin’ on the dancefloor with me, you ain’t got a choice.”