His face, as usual, was the first thing she saw as she walked through the door.

Caitlin Phillips knew better than to think that they wouldn’t run into each other. Oh, no. That would make things far too easy. They’d met, after all, at her bar. Granted, she didn’t own it, but she’d been coming here for far longer than he ever had.

The place wasn’t anything special. It was just another smoky room in another overcrowded, traffic jammed college town, where the only thing to do was to get laid and to drink, and not necessarily in that order. She supposed there was good clean fun somewhere, but it was hardly worth the effort to find it, and she was relatively certain that it wouldn’t really be fun anyway.

Dark wood paneling gave the room a slightly more sophisticated air. Technically, the place was a sports bar. It was a label easy to justify with the sixty-inch flat panel televisions placed flush against each other on every wall. Green leather seats and deep booths completed the warning that this was a masculine domain.

Caitlin had escaped into the poker room at the first opportunity. It didn’t take long. One of her best friends, Scarlett – named after O’Hara and long before any actresses had become the rage – had been working there for the last four years. And, Caitlin supposed, if you were going to work at a bar, a poker room was probably the best place to be. The tips from the winners far out paid those from the college students drinking.

Usually she came through the back door and slipped into the poker room without entering the main room at all. Today had been no exception, but she still hadn’t been prepared to see him staring back at her, dead center in front of her.

Scott McDaniel was the antithesis of everything Caitlin looked for in a guy. The preppy, clean-cut outfit, the short, closely cut dark hair that spiked just a little in the front, and the crowd of people just like him that he surrounded himself with were all prime examples.

But, dammit, his smile could melt ice. His bottom lip was just a little bit fuller than the top, perfect for kissing. Both perfectly sculpted, the bow a little too flawless. When he smiled, it transformed his somewhat average looking face into something beautiful.

Mouths had always been Caitlin’s weakness.

She’d stopped, stunned like a cat by the glare of a flashlight, and then nodded jerkily at him with all the grace of a stranded trout. He nodded back at her, all of the usual intensity in his unremarkable blue eyes. She’d escaped to the bathroom, well aware that she was fleeing. When she walked back through the room, she didn’t even look at him.

She wondered idly if he thought she was just being a bitch.

The poker room overflowed with customers that evening, so Caitlin hadn’t seen much of Scarlett. As usual , she was nowhere to be found. One of the machines had just cleared out, however, so Caitlin took a seat. Occasionally she allowed herself a five dollar limit on the machines – bringing only five dollars in cash usually helped to uphold that – and she was in the sort of mood that begged for gambling. At least until their friend Ava arrived, as she was prone to do an hour or two after she said she’d be there.

Forty minutes later, Caitlin was still playing on her original five dollars, and Scott had not bothered to come in to say hello. Ava had called to inform them that she was finally en route, although that only meant that she’d made it to her car and not that she was traveling anywhere near the direction of the bar.

The older gentleman who had been sitting next to her cleared out and another man took his seat. This one was much younger – if pressed, Caitlin would have placed him at a few years older than herself. Maybe.

He had black hair and deep brown eyes, and a mouth even more beautifully sculpted than Scott’s. She couldn’t help but notice, too, that he must have towered an entire foot above her, if not more. He had the lean, lanky body type she normally drooled over.

Scarlett raised an eyebrow in appreciation when she reentered the room, setting a nutty-flavored beer beside Caitlin without having asked. In the same graceful movement, she handed her a shaker of salt and didn’t even flinch when Caitlin dumped it in her beer.

“That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”

His voice held those silky, seductive tones you might expect from a porn star. Caitlin wasn’t impressed. “Lucky for you you don’t have to drink it,” she responded.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Maybe her tone of voice had discouraged him, the bored disinterest the ego killer it was meant to be. She hit the Start button again and watched as the credits swelled to four hundred ninety-six. One-hundred twenty dollars. Maybe she should just cash out and take the win.

She glanced around. Nope. Ava still wasn’t here and Scarlett had disappeared again, so she might as well keep playing.

He managed to keep quiet for another three minutes before he broke her concentration a second time. “Do you have a twenty you could trade me?”

She didn’t even look away from her screen. “Sorry.”

She would if she cashed out, but that wasn’t going to happen. He could suck it up and deal. Patience was a virtue, or some shit like that, right?

“Do you know where the girl who works here is?”

Sighing deeply, she looked away from the screen. “Probably went to get some of the other patrons more beer. I don’t know. She’ll be back in a minute.”

Attention back on the screen. Maybe he’d get the hint.

No luck. “I need a drink,” he said. “Do you want anything?”

Wordlessly, Caitlin held up her still full beer. She hit the Start button again. Up two thousand credits this time. She contemplated this with a vague feeling of consternation. Every once in a while she hit for a paltry sum, but she’d just won six hundred some dollars in the last five minutes. She snuck her current irritation a glance out of the corner of her eye. Maybe he was lucky.

Scarlett came back, stopping at Caitlin’s chair and placing her hands on the back. “Caity, you’re winning! That’s great!”

Caitlin just shrugged. “We’ll see. Jackass beside me needs a beer.” He must have heard her, because his head whipped around and he was frowning. She ignored him. “Is Nick here?”

Scarlett and Nick had been dating since nearly the dawn of time. Scarlett was expecting a ring, but Nick had told Caitlin not three days ago that he didn’t think he wanted to marry her. As usual, her response had been blunt and to the point. He’d agreed that he needed to be honest with his girlfriend, but to Caitlin’s knowledge, he hadn’t done anything about it. As far as Caitlin was concerned, it was none of her business, and she wasn’t getting involved. It was a policy that had served her well over the years. She didn’t tell Scarlett what Nick said, nor Nick what Scarlett said. It cut down on the drama, anyway.

“Yeah.” Scarlett adjusted her waist-length ponytail. “He’s in the back room near the television.” She leaned over Caitlin so she could see the idiot beside her better. “Can I get you something to drink?”

He grinned at Scarlett, an action that nearly made Caitlin blink it was so blinding. He really had the kind of mouth she could torture herself with for hours. “Just a draft, please. And whatever your friend wants.”

The corners of Caitlin’s mouth pulled down. “I don’t want anything.” She jammed the button viciously. Ninety-seven more credits. She could see the laughter in Scarlett’s eyes, and it pissed her off even more.

The jackass motioned something to Scarlett, who nodded and ducked back out into the main room. She slouched down in the uncomfortable leather seat, noting sourly that while her feet dangled off the floor, his rested comfortably against the obnoxious carpet.

She started counting to see how long it took him to try speaking to her again, pushing the button and watching her credits dwindle away. She’d just hit the number six hundred and seventy-five when he turned to her. “My name is Adam.”

He even had the audacity to stick out his hand.

Jabbing one last time, she stared at the screen in shock as the numbers rolled up. Seven thousand credits. That left her with a grand total of two thousand three hundred and sixty-two dollars. Holy hell. She ignored his outstretched hand and cashed out. Immediately.

When Scarlett came back in, she handed her the ticket. “Can I have three hundred in cash and the rest as a check?”

Scarlett blinked at her. “Holy shit, Caitlin! That’s amazing! Congratulations!”

“I’ll be out with Nick,” she said, sparing a withering glance for Adam. “Can I get a buffalo chicken wrap with mild sauce and waffle fries, too?”

“No problem,” Scarlett said. “I’ll put that in right now.”

“Thanks.” Caitlin picked up her beer and her purse and walked out into the main part of the bar.

Of course Nick was sitting at the table adjacent to Scott’s. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Well, there was nothing to do about it except pretend it didn’t bother her. She plastered an unconcerned expression on her face and walked toward the table with her head held high. She nodded at him again as she passed. When she sat at the table, she ended up being diagonal from him and so close he was practically breathing on her. Fuck again.

“Sweetheart,” she said, and both Nick and Scott looked at her. She continued directing her commentary toward Nick. “Are you coming out with us after Scarlett’s done?”

Scott’s attention turned away, leaving a swelling satisfaction to rise through her. Take that, you asshole, she thought.

“No, Cait,” he answered apologetically, “you know I hate being around all the smoke.”

She hadn’t expected anything different, but it hadn’t hurt to ask. Scarlett came back then with her money and a soda for Nick. Caitlin pocketed the check and two hundred dollars, handing the other hundred to Scarlett. “Here,” she said dismissively.

“What’s this for?”

Caitlin shrugged. “The bill, I guess.”

Scarlett frowned at her. “Cait, your wrap was six dollars.”

Caitlin stared back at her. “What’s your point?”

“I can’t take this!” Scarlett exclaimed. She futilely tried to shove the money back in Caitlin’s direction.

“I’m not taking it back.”

Nick looked back and forth between the two girls. “Wait, what’s going on?”

Scarlett sighed. “Caitlin just won two thousand dollars on the machine and now she’s trying to tip me with this one hundred dollar bill. I can’t take this!”

Nick stared at her like she was crazy. “Scarlett, shut up and take the money.”

Caitlin took a sip of her beer and kept her mouth shut. Nick was what she politely called an opportunist and what she rudely called an asshole. She got along with him because she had no illusions about what kind of person he was. If you don’t expect anything, you can’t be disappointed.

Scarlett’s mouth was still open and trying to form words. “Just take the money, Scarlett,” Caitlin said. “And check on my food, would you?”

Impulsively, Scarlett reached down and hugged her. “Thank you, Caitlin.”

Caitlin waved her off. “It’s nothing.”

Nick reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “You’re a good friend.”

She smiled at him, but knew he was only saying that because he’d be borrowing money off of Scarlett later. Unfortunately, today he knew exactly how much she had. Caitlin hoped her other tips made up for whatever he borrowed, because they all knew Scarlett would never see the money again. Although Caitlin did wonder if Nick knew she knew.

She switched her attention to the baseball game on the television and rolled her eyes. The closest team hadn’t been good in at least fifteen years and baseball bored the hell out of her anyway. Give her basketball and she was happy; anything else and her attention span was non-existent at best.

Scott chose that moment to lean over. “So you won gambling tonight? Want a shot to celebrate?”

She met his pale blue eyes coolly. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Aw, come on, Cait, don’t be like that.”

Be like what? She wanted to ask. Honest? He wouldn’t know how to handle that answer because she was pretty sure he’d never actually been honest with her. Caitlin hated games, so when she asked a guy whether he was interested, she expected a straight answer. “I’m just busy” tended to be a cop-out and a lie. Funny how that didn’t stop him from sleeping with her.

All she asked was that the relationship be defined. Cut and dried, stuck in a cute little box with a damned pink ribbon on top.

“I have to drive, Scott. I don’t want a shot.”

“Besides,” a new voice interrupted, “I owe her a drink anyway.” Adam towered over her, one of his hands resting tentatively on the back of her chair. He smiled down at her, an action that she was sure had to be illegal in at least three states. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Yes,” Caitlin said.

He sat anyway. “You still haven’t told me what you want.”

“I don’t let guys buy me drinks,” she informed him. She knew Scott was paying attention because his brow furrowed. She’d let him buy her drinks, so her next comment was strangely satisfying. She knew he’d get the hidden meaning. “That usually tends to end in disaster. I’ll get my own.”

“What—“

“Oh, hey, man, I’m Adam.” Adam leaned over to shake Scott’s hand, interrupting him. “How do you know Cait?”

“We’re friends,” Scott replied, his frown deepening. “We were dating.”

“No,” Caitlin said, “we were fucking. There’s a difference.” Adam and Scott both blinked at her. She bared her teeth in a vague semblance of a smile. “Why sugarcoat it?”

Adam scratched his head and looked somewhat uncomfortable. “Fair enough.”

“When did you turn into such a bitch?” Scott wondered.

“This is why I don’t date. And why I don’t let guys buy me drinks.”

Adam peered at her. "Because you turned into a bitch?”

“No,” she explained, “because you have to be nice. And I’m not nice.”

Nick leaned across the table to squeeze her shoulder again, his attention momentarily drawn from the game. “I think you’re nice, Cait.”

“You don’t count.”

Rather than looking put out – like Scott did – or nonplussed – like Nick did, Adam seemed a little more than slightly amused. “So let me get this straight. You don’t date because you have to be nice to people. And you don’t let guys buy you drinks, because, again, you have to be nice to them. But you’ll sleep with this asshole?”

Scott’s face darkened, but Caitlin just laughed. “Well, you have to admit, it makes it a lot harder to get attached.”

“So I guess that means a date is out?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Caitlin answered, ignoring the rage growing on Scott’s face. “If I go out with you, I’ll feel obligated to sleep with you, which in turn makes me a raging bitch. I can fake being nice pretty well, but it’s usually better for everyone if we just get it all out from the start.”

“Check, no sex.” Adam nodded at her.

“Caitlin,” Scott said, “I thought you liked me.”

She smiled sweetly at him. "Your mistake. But I’m not sure I like him, either.”

Adam frowned down into his beer. “Which brings up the interesting point of why I’m taking your abuse.”

“Nothing better to do?” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Doesn't it matter that I’m not trying to be malicious?”

He half-laughed, but the expression on his face was wary. “Not really.”

“So,” Scott scooted his chair closer, “does that mean we’re not friends?”

“I think it means you’re not fucking anymore,” Adam injected helpfully.

He glanced at Caitlin, who shrugged and answered, “Not at his convenience, anyway.” She glanced at Scott, an expression of hurt and confusion masking his face. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m not at your beck and call.” She turned back to Adam. “I can make an effort to be nice,” she said, “but I’ll have to be less honest.”

“Just remind me periodically that it’s not malicious and I think we might be okay.”

Caitlin nodded. “Deal.”

Nick tuned back into the conversation at this point, ripping his attention away from the baseball game, where nothing was happening anyway. “What’s going on?’’

“I’m about to ask her for the right to revise sentencing in the unforeseeable future,” Adam answered. “Is she good about keeping her word?”

“Caitlin wouldn’t know how to lie if you tried to teach her,” Nick said dismissively. “But get it in writing.”

He held a pen out to her expectantly. “You heard the man. I want revision rights.”

“You’re not going to want to date me,” she protested.

“Do you bite the head off your mates when you’re through with them?”

She slanted a glance at Scott, who still looked perturbed, but who had gone back to the conversation at his own table. She could tell he was listening with half an ear. “Only if they deserve it.”

“Are you always this charming?” he wanted to know.

“If you catch me on Tuesdays and Sundays. Saturdays are hit or miss. What do you care, anyway?” She picked up the saltshaker and poured more salt into her beer so it foamed. “I know how this works.”

His brow furrowed. “How what works?”

Caitlin rolled her eyes and shoved the saltshaker across the table, then used one of the napkins strewn in front of her to clean up the sweat from her glass. “You don’t make friends at bars, Adam. You meet people and forget about them.”

“You don’t know me well enough to know what I do or don’t do,” he pointed out.

She watched him pick up the saltshaker and roll it between his palms. “I didn’t mean you specifically.”

“Gotcha.” He smiled at her, then leaned across the table. “You were really referring to yourself.”

Amusement flitted across her face. “I never said I wasn’t.”

“Right.” He sat back in his chair again. “So where do you make friends, then?”

“Bomb shelters, usually. What’s the difference?”

Where did she make friends? All over the place. Strangely, her somewhat acerbic personality was not a turn off for most people. She keenly aware of the fact that she came across as a bitch, but since she didn’t know what to do about it, she’d never tried to change it.

Caitlin was a take it or leave it sort of girl. For the most part, she didn’t believe in lying, although there were some scenarios where you just couldn’t avoid it. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, and if that meant she hadn’t had the best experience with relationships, so be it. The waiting games and the manipulation and the maybe-maybe nots made her want to move to Alaska. Or a nunnery.

Better to stay out of it altogether.

The same went with friends, although a few exceptional clauses did exist. They just tended to be very, very rare.

“I was just curious.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not a cat, because you would have been hit by a semi at least twice.” She nearly sighed with relief when Scarlett appeared, placing her food and a wrapped set of silverware in front of her. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” Scarlett replied. “Do you need anything else?”

Caitlin shook her head and Scarlett disappeared back into the poker room. “I hate when it’s busy. It’s impossible to have more than a peripheral conversation with her.” She caught the look Nick threw at her. “Yes, I know she gets yelled at when she stands around and talks.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Nick protested.

She rolled her eyes. “Just watch your game.” She switched her attention back to Adam, who proceeded to watch her take a bite out of her wrap. Once she’d swallowed, she asked, “Don’t you have friends to talk to?”

“They aren’t nearly as interesting as you are,” he returned. “But I probably should get back to them. Will you remove any vital organs if I ask you for your number?”

“Nope,” she said, snagging a fry. “I’ll just tell you I don’t have a phone.”

“Something that might work better if I didn’t see it sticking out of your purse.”

She glanced down, and sure enough, the contents of her purse had sort of spilled out across the table. The little silver traitor was at the top of the pile. “I guess we move to Option B.”

“What’s Option B?”

Nick’s ever sporadic attention fell on them for an instant. “She’s going to give you the number for the rejection hotline.”

“I am amazed at the sheer level of spite you can maintain.” She peered dubiously at him, but he actually did sound impressed. “Really, though, I just want to disprove your theory that you can’t make friends at bars. We already covered the not dating thing. If this is you nice, I definitely don’t want to see you when you’re a raging bitch.”

Probably a good call on his part, so she couldn’t really be offended. Still…

“How do I know you won’t use it for nefarious purposes?”

“Like what? Selling it to a collection agency?” She raised an alarmed eyebrow. “Kidding. I wouldn’t. Mostly because I have the feeling you’d break my fingers if I tried. Friends?”

She contemplated him for a minute, gnawing on her lower lip. “I suppose we could try it for a probationary period. But I’m still not going to give you my number. I have a better idea. Why don’t you give me yours, and I’ll call you.”

Adam tapped Nick on the shoulder. “Will she call?”

“If she says she will.”

She handed him her phone, letting him punch the number in himself. When he had, she quickly edited his name. When she was done, she showed him the screen. “Good?”

He frowned at her. “Why does it say, ‘Jackass,’ instead of, ‘Adam?’”

“Because for the probationary period, that’s your name.” She smiled brightly at him, vaguely hoping that maybe he’d be insulted.

He just laughed. “Yours is going in as ‘Bitch’ as soon as you call.”

“Yeah, well, turn about’s fair play. Now run along.”

Still laughing, he stood up. “I’ll be waiting.” And with that, he sauntered away.

She glanced up to see Scott staring at her and realized with mild horror that she was actually smiling. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy had had that effect on her. Even the disapproval on his face couldn’t dim her amusement.

“What?” she asked bluntly. “You had your chance.” Turning to Nick, she said, “I’m going back to the poker room.”

Then, blowing them both a kiss, she disappeared into the other room.

I know I said I was going to update Illusoire next, but this literally slammed into my head this afternoon and wouldn't go away. I have no idea where it's going (well, okay, vaguely), but either way, I am amused. Illu next. It's partially written, and hopefully will be totally written by the end of the week. I was supposed to be doing Stats this evening, but as it turns out, the stupid program won't give me p-values, so I quit in a huff. Actually, I just quit without the huff, but whatever.

On a side note, it will be short. Unlike Illu, it is not intended to be a long-term project.

I hope you guys enjoy this... Whether you let me know or not. ;)

Much love,
-K