You pushed open the bar’s door and instantly liked what you saw. String lights hung along the walls, casting a warm, cozy glow, and the soft hum of classic rock filled the air. The place felt welcoming, a little worn in but in the best way. You slid onto one of the barstools, glancing at the chalkboard menu of drinks.

“What can I get you?” a deep, smooth voice asked, pulling your attention to the man behind the counter.

He had short, dirty blonde hair, a faded flannel rolled to his elbows, and a towel draped casually over one shoulder. His green eyes fixed on you with an easy confidence, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Uh… what do you recommend?” you asked, momentarily distracted by his presence.

His smile widened, a flicker of amusement lighting up his face. “Depends. You looking for something strong, or something easy?”

“Surprise me,” you said with a small shrug, leaning forward on the bar.

“Bold choice,” he teased, turning to grab a bottle of bourbon from the shelf. He worked quickly but with a kind of precision that suggested he’d been doing this for years. As he poured, he glanced back at you. “I've not seen you in here before, are you new to town?" He asked.