#statesmen

You sat at the bar as you watched your friends dance with random men, nursing a blue Hawaiian. Now, most people would be lonely sitting by themselves while their friends had fun without them, but you? You loved it.

People watching was one of your favorite hobbies. Seeing people all dressed up and dancing, having the time of their lives after a long day made you really happy. It was almost like watching a live show.

And your favorite character of the night was sitting in the corner, sipping on what seemed to be a whiskey on ice. You've been watching him since you got here, and you were honestly shocked he hadn't noticed your staring yet.

"Hey!" Your friend said as she hugged you; though it was more of her draping her body on top of yours than anything.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm tired. And I wanted to see you!" She sat on the seat next to you, asking the bartender for another shot of tequila.

You nodded, taking another sip from your drink. You glanced back at the corner of the room where the man had been sitting, noticing his disappearance.

You were honestly disappointed. Maybe in another lifetime you would've asked him out, or at the very least asked him for his name, but sadly, that would never happen in this one.

"My god, you have got to be the prettiest woman I've ever seen." A man said from behind you, a deep Southern accent evident in his tone.

You assumed he was talking to your friend, honestly used to it at this point.

"What's a handsome man like you doing here?" Your friend said, twisting her hair around her finger as she looked up at him, batting her eyelashes.

The man cleared his throat. "Respectfully ma'am, I wasn't talking to you."

You glanced behind you, making direct eye contact with the man from the corner. Shit-

You quickly turned your head back, staring down at your drink.

"Ugh, whatever, I've gotta piss anyway." Your friend said with a sigh, slightly slurring her words.

"I thought you wanted to go home?" You grabbed her hand, looking at her with panic in your eyes. Please don't leave me alone right now.

"Umm, no?" Your friend tugged her arm away, storming off towards the bathrooms, obviously offended.

"This seat taken?" The man asked, gesturing to the newly available seat.

You silently shook your head, keeping your eyes down.

"I'm Agent Whiskey, but you can call me Jack."

Agent? You wondered which agency he worked for. There had to be a million in Texas.

You responded with a simple nod.

Whiskey sighed, leaning in a bit closer. "Don't be shy, sugar. I saw you starin'."

Your eyes snapped up to look at him; so he had noticed?

Whiskey huffed out a laugh. "What? You thought I wouldn't notice a pretty girl starin' at me like that all night?"

"I'd hoped not." You mumbled, picking at a hang nail on your thumb.

Whiskey stood up, resting his arms on the bar as he leaned in close, his mouth ghosting over the shell of your ear. "Listen here baby, how would you like to ride home on a real cowboy? I've got a six pack on ice and my roomies out all night, so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar."

Chills ran down your spine as blood rushed to your cheeks, your thighs squeezing together. "Excuse me?" You looked up at him, the smirk he had making it hard to maintain eye contact.

"You heard me. So, what'll it be, sugar? I ain't got all night."

"I don't know-"

"Hey now, don't listen to this." He said, gently poking your head. "But listen to this." Whiskey set his hand on your knee, slowly dragging it up your thigh.

You grabbed his hand, not enough to stop it, but enough to make you feel like you were in control. You were conflicted; the logical side of your mind was screaming for you to run away as fast as you could, but your heart?

Your heart was beating a million miles an hour and was practically begging for you to say yes.

"What about my friends? I can't just leave them."

"You didn't see them 'em slip out the door not even five minutes ago?" Whiskey asked, jabbing his thumb behind him towards the door.

"What?" You glanced around the room, your 'friends' nowhere in sight. "What the fuck." You mumbled, throwing back the rest of your drink.

"So?" Whiskey asked, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You looked up at him, a beautiful shade of crimson painted on your cheeks. Fuck it.