"Well first of all, Noah, you're the delusional one. And second.." James smirked a little as he gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "How about no?" Maybe he was trying to pick a fight. It wouldn't be the first time. He was certainly in a mood today, this week. He could use a little blood and violence. He had to think that they would be pretty evenly matched.
James turned around on his stool to face Noah, a brow quirking slightly. "And what?" He waited for a moment before he added, "She's still got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she? Tell me you aren't here because of her and I'll drop it. But I'm fairly certain we're both here because of her."
"For the record," He began as he turned back towards the bar upon his stool. "I'm not pissed at her for leaving. I understand that. I am pissed, however, that she gave me the impression that there was some hope, something worth working toward, when obviously she had no intentions of seeing any of that through."