Gathering up all the bottles that weren’t bourbon, Jace set them back on the shelves where they’d been found originally. “People still bother with wine to get laid?” he threw over his shoulder, the sarcasm dripping just a little. “Seems like too much work to me.” Granted, even before the zombies he’d never have been the guy to wine and dine a woman. Not even close. Try to impress her in other ways, sure, but that fancy shit just wasn’t him.
“Way I see it now, everyone’s just looking for a warm body for a while.” He shrugged a shoulder, pushing hair out of his face. “You got the people who’ve found actual, for real relationships, but…” he trailed off, shrugging again as he turned around and poured a glass a bourbon for Noah. “What’s the point?” He wasn’t actively trying to be cynical, but so far he hadn’t met anyone worth putting in the effort for. And he didn’t think his odds of finding them now were any good either.
He tapped his fingers absently against the bar in a rhythm with the music in the background. “You’re security, right?” he asked. “Seen anything exciting tonight?” He didn’t have the attention span, or the qualifications to be working security, and he didn’t want to, but it was interesting hearing what was going on.