The dated rock music was giving me a headache. If not for the alcohol still left in my glass I would have been out of the bar already. Even the redhead hanging on my every word was getting to me. Did girls no longer believe in the chase?

“James?” she said my name with an exaggerated southern drawl that came across as almost fake. It probably was.

“Yes?” I blinked a few times trying to bring things back into focus. I had drunk far too much, but there was nothing I could do about that now.

“Are you even listening to me?” She tapped her fingers on the bar top between us.

“No.” I took in the faded blue paint on the walls. The place had seen better days, but it served my needs perfectly. No one thought anything of the quiet guy getting plastered at the bar. I blended in.

“I asked you if you wanted to take me home. I only live a few blocks from here.” She put her hand on my upper thigh.

I looked into her glazed over green eyes. “Probably not.”

“Oh.” Hurt marred her overly made-up face, and for a second I felt bad, but then it faded. She would be even more hurt when I left her in the morning. Besides, if she was half as drunk as I was, she had no idea what she was asking.

“I am doing you a favor.” I downed the rest of my beer. It was some crappy lager I had no plans to try again. I had chosen it as an alternative to the whiskey that had filled my glass earlier in the evening.

“Oh.” She stared at me blankly. She clearly liked that word.

“See you around.” I moved over a stool to make sure she got the less than subtle hint. I did not particularly enjoy being mean, but I had no time or energy to play nice.

Loud laughter got my attention. “Cold.”

I looked at the aging bartender chuckling in front of me before glancing down at the now vacant stool the redhead had been seated on. “Honesty.”

“You have to admit that was harsh.” He leaned on his elbows. “Do you usually treat pretty girls that way?”

“Would it have been better to have bedded her and never spoken to her again?”

He straightened up. “No, but there is an in-between. There is value in politeness.”

“And what value is that?” I pushed my empty beer glass toward the bartender. “Give me something stronger this time.”

“I can’t serve you more. We both know that.”

“And we both know you make exceptions.” I was drunk. There was no question about that, but I needed more to numb the emptiness. Otherwise there was no point in having made the trip into Charleston.

“I can’t serve you more booze, but I don’t mind listening.”

“Listening?” I raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like I want someone to listen?”

“You’re wasted before nine o’clock at night. You need someone to talk to.”

“Next time I will wait until later to get intoxicated.” I tossed down enough money to cover double my tab and stumbled out of the bar.

The cool night was a welcome change from the stifling heat of the overcrowded dive. It had been years since I lived in the city of Charleston, South Carolina, but one thing remained the same. They still insisted on pumping heat into buildings the second the temperature dropped south of sixty degrees. I doubted that most of the people at the bar could survive long where I came from.

The city portion of my walk should not have taken long, but it did. I guess that happens when you get pissed drunk. I knew Charleston well from the months I lived there in high school—and the few nights I spent there now. I spent most of my time in an altogether different place, a place that had stopped feeling like home years ago. A place that was literally another world.

I was far too exhausted to make it all the way back home, so I stopped at the one place I could in the city. I had no key, but I had another plan to get in. I went around back, taking one cursory look into the withering garden before starting my climb up the thick ivy that wound its way all the way up to the third story balcony.

The ivy swayed under my weight, but I made it onto the balcony without breaking my neck. I shook the doorknob with enough force to get it to budge. I pushed the door open, kicked off my boots, and tossed my shirt before collapsing on the queen sized bed. It was not my bed, but at the moment any bed would do.