The atmosphere at Hollis Bar and Grill was welcoming, with yellow lights twinkling softly as a live band played a country classic. You were at the bar, enjoying a whiskey that slightly burned your throat, when Toby Cavanaugh walked in and sat on the stool next to you. You knew him from school, always a little mysterious, a little reserved.

As you lifted the glass to take a sip, you noticed his gaze quickly moving to the neckline of your red dress. He was subtle, but you noticed and, upon catching his gaze, you let out a small laugh.

Toby blushed slightly and looked away, scratching the back of his head. “I'm sorry, it wasn't... I just... well, the dress suits you.”