"Do you fancy a drink?" The question alone was enough to make Sam's heart skip backwards a beat, not that that was anatomically possible, but it was the best way to describe what the action of her heart felt like at that moment. And then there was his face, looking up from his phone with a expression of such indifference that she was almost tempted to say yes straight away. She sighed, determined to remain cool, "I thought you had a date tonight."

Tom smiled, "Well that's easily sorted." He had no question in his mind about who he would rather share a drink with. Even a single drink with Sam immediately eclipsed the prospect of spending a whole evening or even night with a otherwise nondescript girl. And then Sam nodded, with a slight shrug, "Okay."

Tom smiled again, unable to keep a grin from forming on his face. Sam, Samantha Nicholls with her hair pulled neatly into a bun and a dark grey hoodie falling slightly off either shoulder was going to go out for a drink with him. He asked for clarification, just to be sure, "So, a drink?" He walked towards to door, pleased to hear her follow.

Sam was finding it difficult to keep the excitement out of her voice. He asked her out for a drink. And cheekily cancelling his date with another girl to go out with her, something that should have made her turn around and say no, but she hadn't. And she wouldn't, she was actually looking forward to this. As friends of course, because a guy like him would never look at a girl like her for anything more than friendship. And he had said never at work. But she still followed him, "After the day I've had, I'm probably going to need more than one."

"Good. You can buy the first round."

Sam shook her head, but still smiling. Because he'd probably broken a few hearts with that smile and that charm but he was caring and sweet and funny and- she didn't need to look for any other reasons, she was already grabbing her bag.

.

And nearly a bottle of wine later, they were arguing about who deserved the last glass. Sam was all for fighting for it, rolling around on the floor with Tom had appeal in more ways than one and it would certainly be interesting to see his face when she came out on top. Because she would win, and she was sure of it. But that neither an appropriate or viable option, so she suggested rock paper scissors. He smiled, "Yeah all right, my game, you're on."

And she won the first game, her rock blunting his scissors, just like she knew she would. And just like she knew he would he insisted that they play best of three. She played scissors and he played rock, and just like a child he punched the air with his fist, "Yes! Even Stevens!"

And she giggled, surprising herself, "How old are you?"

"I can't even remember."

"Okay, this is it, tie breaker, I mean, you do realise I'm going to win, I always win-" They counted together, "I, 2, 3"

And they both did a rock, and he did some weird thing making his explode, insisting that a hammer breaks a rock. And she was ready to let him get away with it, because despite the playboy act, Sam was really beginning to like him. They were really drunk, and she was still holding his hand and suddenly Sam was acutely aware of how close his face was to hers. And then the distance between their lips closed and they were kissing. And it didn't matter who was having the last glass of wine, or who won rock paper scissors because they were leaving the pub. And they get to the taxi, and he opens the door for her. She knew he was a gentleman. And then once their inside he's playing with her hair and his lips find hers again...