Rose/Michael
"I can say no if it makes you feel better," he said, still snickering. Actually, he wasn't sure if his brain could handle knowing that Rose-the-horse-whisperer had legs, like capital L, and there was no way he was going to consciously think 'sexy', because some places even he wasn't prepared to go. At least not while he was relatively sober. This was probably an argument for sobriety.
At the question he finally stopped laughing. The real answer was that it was a combination of all three. Eva had her bag of tricks to dip into, but Michael just needed alcohol and some kind of physical release; and this was generally less painful than getting into fights. Same headspace, though. While he was drinking or screwing or brawling in some bar somewhere, he didn't have to think. All that existed was right in front of him. That was more than he could articulate even to himself, so he just shrugged, brushing off the apology in good humor. "More a case of why shouldn't I come here? Just a good place to relax, be stupid for a few hours without killing anyone. By the way, if you was going for unexpected, you win. Kinda the last place I figure I'd see you. So, want me to fuck off and leave you to it? Or can I buy you a drink?" The grin appeared again; yes, he was enjoying himself.