Patrick was sweating profusely. He liked to argue that he was a resilient, stable man who just happened to be in his mid-30's... But, good lord.

If chasing you was a sport, he'd gladly die while playing it, but he just wish that you'd let up.

"Baby, c'mon," He whined while grabbing your waist. He was making a drunken mess of himself in front of a mix of both his and your friends. "Jus' give me your phone number, sweetheart..."