It was New Year's Eve and what did I have to show for my year? I can’t think of a single thing beyond the pub that earned the title of accomplishment. But there she stood on the other side of my bar at the eleventh hour. Learning her name made my year.
On a scale of my landlord, Edgar, who has a huge hairy mole on his face to the blessedly handsome Charlie Hunnam...well you can guess which end of the spectrum the smoking hot bartender fell on. Blonde hair. Chiseled jaw. Arms. Arms. Arms. But it was the intensity in his gaze that feckin’ floored me. He saw me, and I don’t know why something that should be so ordinary was so exceptional.
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