Joker, it was now clear, didn’t want me.

Maybe he kissed back whoever kissed him. He was a guy. Guys probably did that. And it was obvious from the used condom wrappers that he had experience. Maybe he was just a good kisser because he’d had a lot of practice.

But I had in no way given him the impression I wanted it to stop.

He’d stopped it.

I was taken from my thoughts again when Snapper pulled my cup out of my hand, threw it (and its liquid contents) in a trash bin, and grabbed a fresh plastic cup. Then he went to one of the three kegs behind the bar and pulled me a new one.

He came back and set it in front of me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, and as I did, I took that opportunity to take him in fully.

He had light blond hair, long and pulled back in a slipshod bun at the back of his head. He had light blue eyes and blond lashes, the both of them together unusual and attractive. He had blond stubble on his cheeks, but I knew he shaved (though, apparently infrequently) since the whiskers at his chin were a lot longer than the rest so I figured when he was feeling in the mood to be neat, he just wore a goatee. He also had nice cheekbones, very white teeth that probably seemed whiter due to his tanned skin, and a straight nose.

“You the one with the kid?” he asked and yet again that dirty washed through me.

I dropped my eyes to my beer, lifting it, and before taking a sip, replied, “Yeah. I’m the official Chaos charity case.”

I put my cup to the bar, still looking at it, but didn’t continue to do this as I had planned, along with feeling sorry for myself and finding a time when I could tell Tabby I had to go (that time being soon), because I felt a fist gentle under my chin, lifting it.

My eyes went to Snapper’s.

“We all fall on hard times,” he said quietly, removing his fist from my chin. “It’s just lucky for you that you fell in the right direction.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” I told him.

“Only way, babe,” he returned immediately. “We are who cares about us.”

I felt my brows draw together. “Sorry?”

“You weren’t worth the trouble, we wouldn’t make it.”

That was so nice the dirty washed out of me and I couldn’t help but smile. “That’s sweet.”

He smiled back. “Maybe. Still true.”

“That’s also sweet.”

He kept smiling and offered, “Want a shot?”

I shook my head. “No. I shouldn’t. I’m driving.”

“You get blotto, I’ll put you on the back of my bike, take you home.”