Honestly, I have no idea what this is. It was just a random idea that popped into my head and I thought I would give it a shot. If you want to read more, then let me know, and if not - consider this a weird oneshot. Cheers!

Prologue

Don't Tell Me Your Name

Dear diary,

There is something special with being in a bar, let alone living above one. Let me give you in on one of my cheesy secrets – I have a wild fantasy of starting a random conversation with a stranger right here by the bar. Nowadays there is those stupid apps like Tinder which is taking over the spontaneous situations we get. I don't want to log into my account and swipe some random guys right only because they look hot, then go on a date to get dumped the next hour. I want to meet a guy old school, perhaps that makes me more stupid than normal and people will think I'm only dreaming because that's not how the world works anymore. But that is how I feel. Think about it, how dreamy it would be for a guy to approach you by the bar and pick up a conversation, maybe even buy you a drink? Isn't that the dream?

Casey tapped the pencil against the page of her notebook. It seemed like all of her inspiration of writing something good suddenly ran out of her body. She had never had a problem with writing before, not even when she had been a teenager in junior high and had 'huge' boy problems. Perhaps that had been an even easier time for her to write considering her hormones and feelings had been all over the place.

"You OK there, Casey?" Ryan asked from behind the bar. He was in the middle of making Sex on the beach for a flirting blonde on the other side of the bar.

Casey nodded. "I'm fine, just bored." She slammed her notebook shut to put it in her bag. "Hit me up with one of those too?"

"Sex on the beach? Not until you're twenty-one, but nice try," Ryan chuckled. Casey rolled her eyes, the woman on the other side didn't look a day over eighteen and it wasn't fair. Then again, trying to get a drink at your uncle's bar might not have been the most brilliant idea Casey had come up with. Also because of the fact that she had been living there for the last couple of days. Ryan might be impulsive and kind of childish, but obviously not stupid.

Ryan disappeared to the other end of the bar, leaving her there by herself again. She leaned her head against her hands and breathed in a deep sigh. It had been a long day.

"Rough night?"

And like a lightning on the clear sky he appeared.

Casey crooked her neck to look to the side where the voice had come from. There was a boy – no screw that – a man. Probably in his middle twenties, wearing a black leather jacket and a v-neck black shirt. He had a bunch of necklaces around his neck and a pair of perfect fitting jeans. In his hand he held a glass of bourbon. But that wasn't the thing Casey almost let out a gasp about, she had never seen a pair of more beautiful eyes.

His eyes were sparkling blue, with a hint of playfulness as well as gentlemen in them. His hair was dirty blonde, short and roughly made as if he had just woken up from a long slumber – thereby also the small hint of stubble on his dimpled cheeks.

Casey scowled. Not the kind of way when you're mad or irritated, but the kind of way when your positively surprised. Like one of your long lasted dreams had appeared right in front of your eyes.

"Something like that," Casey answered as the man sat down next to her. A wave of his manly cologne washed over her – it smelled amazing.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked. British accent – check.

"Sorry, I'm under-age and my uncle owns the bar," Casey explained with a gesture toward the brown-haired guy across the room. Ryan was flirting with the blonde girl who sipped her Sex on the beach from a straw. Gross.

"That's a bummer," the man said. He took a sip of his bourbon.

"Tell me about it."

"So what are you doing at a bar this late at night? Bad breakup?" he asked with a crooked smile.

"I wish," Casey sighed. "At least that would have been a great story to tell my grandchildren."

"Your grandchildren?"

"Yes, I'm from the future where people are born old and grow younger. I'm really one-hundred-and-forty-six years old. Ready to run yet?"

He turned in his seat. "Not even close. Quite the opposite actually, it sounds like you'd like me to leave and if you haven't noticed, a woman hard to catch is a challenge. And I love a good challenge."

Casey bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at him. A teenage boy would definitely have run the other direction by now.

"A woman? Wow. The last time someone called me a woman was when it was dress-like-a-grown-up in high school," Casey said amused. "Which means you're either a stalker or has a thing for blondes."

"A stalker? Do you really think that low of me?" He acted offended by draining his drink and pressing a hand against his chest. "I take it you're still in high school then?"

"Ouch. Graduated two years ago. I'm in that stupid stage between being a young adult but clearly not old enough for a drink at a bar."

It was a stupid stage, admit it. Why would USA be about the only country in the freaking world where the drinking limit was 21? In Germany they were allowed to drink at sixteen and in Denmark no one even cared! Not that a five year old would ever drink alcohol but whatever.

"College then?" the man asked as he raised his hand to get Ryan's attention from the blonde. Casey's uncle didn't hesitate to run over to her rescue. You know that part where a father would be overprotective for seeing his daughter talking to a stranger? This was kind of the same thing, only that it was Casey's uncle, not dad.

"What's up? What can I get you?" Ryan asked, his voice raising in suspicious as he eyed the man and then Casey – who shrugged innocently.

"A shot of whiskey and as for my friend here – 7up? Coke?" he turned his head as for asking what Casey wanted was the most obvious thing in the world. Casey had to hand it to this man, he had a strong pair of balls for daring to shoot a question like that in front of her uncle. Ryan wasn't exactly a small guy.

He had been the Quarterback in high school, which meant his body was built for fights. He was tall, strong and had a mean looking face. Don't get this wrong – he was like a teddybear on the inside as long as it didn't have anything to do with Casey.

"Ice-tea is fine Ryan," Casey said.

"You know that's my niece right?" Ryan said without taking his eyes off the man while pouring his drink.

"It was the first thing she told me, mate," the man answered casually before paying Ryan. "Keep the change."

Ryan pouted and leaned into Casey. "If he make a move, scream."

"Got it," Casey said. Ryan winked at her before returning to his conversation on the opposite end of the bar.

"You know, after buying me a drink I was sure you were going to ask my name," Casey said and continued before he had a chance to interrupt her. "But I'm glad you haven't."

"Why? Is it that bad?" the man asked.

"No, not at all, it's just – I have this theory."

"A theory?"

"Yes. A theory that if you give up to much of yourself in the first meeting there won't be a second one. Like the universe has some sort of a plan and if you try and interfere with it, it will just be screwed up," Casey explained.

He chuckled and put down his glass on the bar. "You're quite something."

Casey wasn't the kind of person who got embarrassed easily, she rarely even blushed for anything. Her mother had always explained her as spontaneous and courageous. Which Casey always had taken as a good thing, even in kindergarten she had been the one to say the weird stuff in the class that got everyone to laugh. She wasn't stupid, she just didn't care what people thought of her and she wasn't afraid of expressing her feelings.

This time something was different, she wasn't embarrassed for what she was telling this stranger, and he didn't seem to judge her too much. Although he made her feel nervous, which she hasn't been in her entire life. OK, that was a lie, she had been nervous three times in her life. But only three. This would be the fourth time.

Casey jerked in her seat and turned toward him. "Do you – do you want to get out of here?"

He raised his eyebrows, surprised.

"Not – not like that. I mean – do you want to go for a walk or – or something?" she asked, feeling her heartbeat raising inside her chest. This rarely happened, why was she so nervous?

He slowly raised his glass with bourbon to his mouth and drained it in a shot. Not even a grimace of strong alcohol went across his face – something Casey found impressive. Or perhaps Ryan had put colored water instead of whiskey in his glass? One never knew.

"On one condition," he finally answered after obviously pretending to contemplate the question for a long while.

"What?"

He smiled playfully as he got up from his seat and quickly snatched a bottle of hardcore liquor from behind the bar. Casey's eyes darted over to Ryan but he was too busy to notice anything. The man licked his outlined naturally red lips and shot her a smirk.

"Don't tell me your name."