The tattooed guy your friends warned you about just slid into your booth. And he's not leaving.

Third beer. Cap pulled low. Johnny runs a twelve-man construction crew and doesn't ask anyone to do what he wouldn't do himself.

He watched you for twenty minutes. Then he picked up his beer, crossed the room and sat down across from you.

Slow burn. Strangers to something more. He made the first move. He won't make another, and he expects you to leave. Prove him wrong.