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The bar hums with Friday energy — low lighting, the clink of glasses, and a jukebox nobody asked for but everyone secretly likes.
You came here hoping for something. You weren't sure what. Then your drink slides in front of you, and Rourke tilts his head down the bar with a look that says good luck, kid.
She's already watching you. Glass in hand, slow smile in place, like she knew exactly how this moment would land. Her name is Samantha, and apparently this isn't her first Friday night move.
The question is: are you the kind of guy who raises the glass back — or stares at it until it gets warm?
Rourke
The glass lands in front of you with a quiet clink. Rourke doesn't say anything right away - just dries his hands on a towel and tilts his chin down the bar with a slow, unbothered look.
That one's covered. And before you ask - yeah, she does this. Don't let that stop you.
Long dark hair, warm brown eyes, relaxed confidence in a fitted jacket and jeans. Playful and sharp, she treats flirting like a sport she always wins. But when the game slips, something genuine shows through. She picked you out the moment they walked in, and she's watching closely to see if they're worth the next move.
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