CROSSFIRE

Cold Hard Steel

Quinn's POV

"How's your night, beautiful?"

I sighed as I shifted my head to the right, not exactly eager to see the face of the stranger who had approached me, and attempted to prepare myself for the exchange of pleasantries to come that I had no interest in. He was far too close in my personal space, the heat of his breath against my neck almost making me cringe, his cheap and overpowering cologne wafting around us like he'd bathed in it. I turned to find a polite grin plastered onto his face as he stood beside me at the bar, the music not quite loud enough to drown out the sound of everyone yelling around us trying to order a drink.

He was somewhat attractive, about 5'10 with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes, but the buttons on his collared shirt were done all the way up to his neck like he was going to work in some accounting office instead of a bar. He looked a little nervous as he brought his drink up to his lips and took a sip, avoiding my gaze and pretending to be aloof, all the while trying to play off some kind of smooth act that he was desperately failing at. After a few seconds, his eyes shifted back to me with a smug grin, looking me up and down with an expression I didn't like, and It took me all of ten seconds to decide I wanted nothing to do with him.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asked as I leaned back against the bar, just in time for the bartender to place the drink I'd just ordered down in front of me.

"Got one." I said as I lifted it to my lips and took a sip, already bored with the conversation.

"Well maybe you'd like to dance?" He said hopefully, motioning over his shoulder to the dance floor as if I didn't know where it was.

"I think I'll hang out here, but thanks for the offer." I said politely as I watched his face fall, instantly recognizing the change in his demeanor as my rejection hit him, taking another drink to prepare myself for what I knew was coming.

"You too good for me or something?" He asked, just as I'd expected, anger creeping into his tone as the polite facade he'd approached me with quickly faded.

"No, I just don't want to dance with you." I responded with a shrug, turning to face him. "I have every right to express that without being made out to be some kind of snob and, for the record, trying to pressure me into accepting your advances is pretty pathetic."

"I could have any girl in this bar I want!" He snapped, his bruised ego clearly fueling his need to remind me how awesome he thought he was, and I had to press my lips together to stifle a laugh.

"And yet, here you are spending all this time trying to make me believe that." I scoffed at him, looking around the room as I waited for him to leave.

"You're fucking ugly anyway, your loss." He spat before he stormed off like a toddler, huffing his way back through the crowd toward his buddies as Madison finally reappeared from the bathroom.

"Well, that looked fun." She laughed. "Did he call you fat or a slut when you rejected him?"

"He went with ugly." I chuckled, throwing back the rest of my drink before motioning to the bartender for another. "Points for creativity."

"You know, there's all this talk about women being fragile and weak, but you bruise a man's ego and he turns into a downright baby." She sighed as she turned to pick up her drink.

"Pretty much, but that sounds like a them problem." I smiled at her as I leaned back against the bar, watching her carefully as her eyes scanned the room, no doubt looking for someone we both knew wasn't there.

I watched her as we stood there, gauging just how long it would take until she cracked, and just as predicted she reached into her purse within a matter of seconds.